A New Hope
by Ocean of Dreams
Summary: MurtaghOC, EragonArya. Illera, a healer in the King's castle is sent to heal Murtagh after the torturing session that follows the burning plains battle. Generous fate can be oh so cruel sometimes. WEIRD MIX OF TIME between 2, 3, 4th books. COMPLETE
1. Incoming

FanFic----A New Hope

Chapter One-Incoming

Murtagh collapsed. He couldn't take the searing mind-numbing pain any longer.

Galbatorix laughed softly. "Enjoying your punishment Murtagh? Don't you know why you're being punished? So let me ask you. WHY ISN'T ERAGON SHADESLAYER HERE???!?" he roared.

Murtagh didn't answer, drawing shallow, ragged breaths.

"You will go again. You will not fail. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Applying more pressure to Murtagh's bones, threatening to break them, Murtagh gasped.

"Y..Yes." And blacked out.

Galbatorix stared at him with contempt. "If your father could see you now…" and strode out of the room.

--

The teenaged girl straightened. "I have to go heal…The Red Rider?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, Illera," the head healer confirmed, "Apparently His Majesty seems to have punished him…again. But this time even more harshly. And He can't be bothered with healing him so he sent one of us, that is, you to go."

Illera sighed. "Fine.." and left. She walked towards the torture chamber, deep in thought_. She had only seen the Red Rider once, when he was out flying with his dragon and there had been a major accident outside. He'd landed and started healing with the infirmary. _Once she got towards the last turn, her step faltered. _I wonder how badly Galbatorix punished him this time._

Shuddering at the concept, she walked up to the guard and said, "I was called down." in her most commanding voice.

The guard leered and said, "Wouldn't you rather spend time with me, instead of the Red Rider?" Illera sighed inwardly. She got that a lot. Mainly just because the guards didn't have wives or...whatever.

Pulling out a wicked looking dagger, and bringing it up to the man's chest, she said dangerously, "You were saying?"

Paling, the guard quickly let her in. Walking in, Illera inhaled sharply. Blood was everywhere. Murtagh looked almost unrecognizable, bruised, bloodied and beaten, laying in a pool of his own blood. _Damn! _Illera thought. _Galbatorix really troubled himself this time_. She stumbled over to Murtagh and knelt by his side. Turning his head, she saw that his eyes were closed and he was breathing ragged breaths.

She uttered, "Wash the blood from this man's body." and began to examine his wounds. He shuddered, and opened an eye, "why….why're……you….'ere?"

Illera answered, "I'm just going to heal you." "Is…he…coming?"

Understanding and sympathy shone in her eyes, before they vanished.

"No." He closed his eyes with relief and didn't speak.

Illera placed her hand over his wounds and said again and again, "Waise Heill!"

When she finished, exhausted, all the wounds had disappeared. Illera sighed. Healing Murtagh had taken a lot of time and effort.

"I'll get something to eat." Illera decided out loud. Murtagh mumbled something that sounded like "Me too".

She studied him. "I'll get something for you then," she said.

She left the room and strode towards the kitchens, grabbing a bowl of broth, a loaf of bread and a pastry for herself, and balanced them on a tray. She retraced her steps to where Murtagh was. Setting the tray down on a table, she kneeled and roused him from his sleep.

He sat up and rasped, "Whas happening?" She helped him up and let him lean on her, while he struggled to find his balance, and walked towards the table.

"Eat. You need to regain your strength."

**Murtagh's point of view**

Pain. All he could remember was pain. Burning, unlimited pain. Unable to contact Thorn, he closed his eyes and succumbed to the inviting darkness. Then...he was awake. Jostled out of the sleep he had so willingly gone into. He felt his injuries being healed; preparing for another torture session perhaps? But…wait…touch was more gentle. And the mind he sensed was feminine. _Thorn?_ He called. _About time_, grumbled the ticked off dragon. _Sorry, _Murtagh said, _I was a bit busy._ _Well go talk to your rescuer, you've been ignoring her._ He scanned her over. A bit younger than himself….maybe 17-18. But it was interesting to know she could use magic.

"Eat. You need to regain your strength." the girl said, in a voice that was neither loud nor quiet but firm. Seeing the food in front of him, he began wolfing it down. She nibbled her pastry listlessly.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"I am Illera." She answered, a bit of sadness in her voice.

"Illera," Murtagh repeated. "Yes?" she replied.

"Thanks for healing me." Murtagh said gratefully.

"It wasn't any trouble."

Murtagh didn't know what to say to that. _Of course it was trouble, Thorn said, amused. Galbatorix went to far greater lengths than ever to get the message drilled into you. _They finished the meal in silence, and she piled the dishes into a bucket near the door.

"He punished you because you let Shadeslayer go, didn't he?" Illera asked softly.

Murtagh frowned slightly. "Yes…but I'll take it. I hate the King, and no one should have to go through what I just went through. And...no, never mind." Illera blinked, her eyes turning curious, but she didn't press him further.

They reached his rooms and he said, "Thanks again. If you hadn't healed me…" he shuddered, not wanting to think of what would have happened.

"I told you, it wasn't any trouble." Illera said, slightly amused.

"And yet you can barely stand."

Illera swore. "Well..."

Murtagh grinned.

"It was worth it. I have to go now, they'll be needing me at the infirmary."

There was something about him, she couldn't quite place it. A bit of mystery, ruthlessness, and sorrow. But that wasn't everything. Giving herself a mental shake, she was turning to go when Murtagh said, "So...I'll see you around then?"

She hesitated. "…Yeah." She finally said, giving him a half-smile. Her footsteps died along the corridor, Murtagh stumbled into his room and fell onto his bed.

**And Galbatorix had seen everything. **


	2. Shock

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is CP's. Anything else...is mine.

Thanks to my only reviewer, elfy14! I'm updating solely for her sake, but…..please more reviews? I know it's only been up for a couple of days...but…please? *puppy dog eyes"

And heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeres the next chapter!

Fanfic- A New Hope

Chapter Two-Shock

His Majesty the King Galbatorix frowned, deep in thought. _I thought I had all magic users touch the eggs already. _(A/N, Yes, I said eggs, as in more than one, it'll make sense later.) _No Matter, I shall call her down to touch them tomorrow. If she becomes a Rider…yet another weapon to use against the foolish Varden. _With that happy thought, the king settled back against his plush pillows and silk sheets and fell asleep.

Illera thought about Murtagh. He was like a puzzle, intriguing, hard to figure out. _Well it doesn't matter right now_, she decided, and leaning against her mattress, she drifted off to sleep.

**Early the next morning **

"Illera!" called the head healer.

"Yes?" Illera answered.

"The King has called for you," the healer said, worry creeping into her eyes. Shock spread over Illera's face. She nodded. A numb feeling began to take over her as she walked toward the throne room. Panic filled her, as most of her family had known how to use magic in the Orient, and her mother and father (now dead), came here and taught her. She remembered her mother saying that some of her ancestors had been Riders, but Riders of a different species of Dragon. _I might become a Rider then…_ She walked casually into the throne room. Her eyes swept the figures inside. Galbatorix sat on his black throne with Murtagh standing beside him. In the center of the room, seeing to glow with light, a pedestal. On top of it, in a silk lined chest, lay two eggs; one an emerald green and the other an amethyst purple. Galbatorix spoke, in a fake, honey-coated voice. "Now Illera, I presume that is your name?"

"Yes, that is my name."

Galbatorix looked satisfied.

"Good. Now we can proceed. Would you be so kind as to touch the eggs?"

Illera moved forward, ignoring pleading looks from Murtagh, begging her not to touch them. First, the green egg. She touched it, and then moved back. Nothing happened. Illera could almost feel the relief wave off Murtagh. Then, the purple egg.

Turning towards Galbatorix, she asked "How did you get another egg? I thought the green one was the last."

He hesitated, almost as if he was unsure if he should tell her. He did.

"I flew to Vroengard, searching for Dragons or their eggs, a few months ago. I was searching through the rooms, and I saw this egg, half buried. I grabbed it, and found it was the last. Then I flew back.'

Illera nodded. Reverently, her fingers slid across the smooth surface of the egg. Nothing happened. She turned to walk back to the infirmary when a loud CRACK split the air. Galbatorix looked so triumphant, like he finally destroyed the Varden, while Murtagh looked like the world was ending. Shocked, she turned back to the egg, touching the baby dragon gently. She gasped, and went rigid as a shock of pain coursed through her body. Sitting down, she picked up her dragon. _Her dragon._ She couldn't believe it! After hearing such tales of them all her life, becoming one was akin to living a dream.

"Your dragon will be hungry," Galbatorix said, still in that fake voice. "Murtagh will go with you to the kitchens and get you a sword. Your training begins tomorrow.' With that, he left the room. Illera started when a tendril of thought opened next to her mind. She felt a ravenous hunger.

"Come on," she said to Murtagh, "Let's go." And headed down to the kitchens.

While Illera was touching the eggs, Murtagh felt despair course through his body. Such a caring person didn't deserve to be exposed to Galbatorix. And…..she was a woman. Galbatorix tended to have his way with a lot of woman, with their consent or not. And if Illera wasn't willing to do something that he ordered? He had a first class experience; it was something he wouldn't wish on anyone.

_Calm down, _Thorn interjected. _Her dragon (by the way, the dragon is a she), wouldn't have chosen her if she wasn't capable. She will be able to go through whatever the King threw at her. Why are you so worried anyways? _Murtagh started to protest, but Thorn cut him off. _Now get to the kitchens!_ Almost as soon as Thorn stopped speaking, Illera said, in a slightly dazed voice, " Come on, let's go." And they headed to the kitchens.

After asking the rather startled chef for some meat and feeding it to her dragon, she wondered what to name her, because the mind rubbing against hers was obviously female.

"Your dragon is female." Murtagh said curtly.

Startled, she asked him, "How do you know?"

"Thorn told me." He answered shortly. _What did I do? _Illera wondered.

Thorn scolded Murtagh, _What are you doing?! She's confused right now! And you're not making things any better!_, Ok, I'm sorry, Murtagh replied to Thorn, annoyed. But he was annoyed because it was true. He himself had seen the bewildered look in her eyes.

"I have to test you with a sword," he said suddenly. "Is your dragon done?"

Illera connected her mind awkwardly with her dragon's and found her bubbling off to sleep.

"Yes, she's going to sleep now."

Picking her dragon up, she started thinking of some names. _Something to do with color…Purple…Amethyst...no….Aquamarine...no, too fish-y...Amira?_ The dragon stirred, and sent a feeling of contentment. _Amira it is then, _Illera thought back.

"Do you know how to use a sword?" Murtagh asked, trying to figure out why Illera wasn't talking. Several moments later, while she was staring at her dragon, she looked up suddenly. "What? Oh, sorry. Yes, I do, my father taught me." Her eyes filled with pain just for a second, before it disappeared.

"What about a bow?"

She shrugged. "I learned bow and arrow, how to use a dagger and swordsmanship, if your wondering."

"When did you learn?"

She thought for a moment.

"I learned when I was younger…now I'm 18."

_So she was a few years younger than him…_

"Do you have a sword of your own?"

She hesitated. "Yes…My father made it, along with my bow. My mother gave me a dagger."

"Could I see your sword?"

Illera turned, walking towards he infirmary, and stopping beside a portrait of Galbatorix astride Shruikan. Opening the frame, she climbed inside and followed the passageway. When it stopped, there were five rooms, hers being the center. Turning the doorknob, she walked over to the opposite wall and drew a sword out of its sheath. The sword was slightly curved, and thin. The sheath and hilt were decorated with characters he couldn't make any sense of.

Murtagh asked, "May I?"

She wordlessly passed the sword to him. He tested it. The balance was fine, the blade was sharp. Easy to wield, it was a fine blade. But not fit for a Rider.

"Does it have a name?"

She nodded. "Freedom."

"It's a fine sword. Yet…For a Rider, you need something like Zar'roc. Though, the elves made Zar'roc, and they aren't on exactly friendly terms with the king. You can use this sword for the time being."

"Alright."

"Well I know that you can fight and use magic. I just have to test your abilities. Let's start with sparring." They walked towards the sparring field.

"Ok. Are you ready?" asked Murtagh, blocking the swords' edges.

Putting her dragon down, she took Freedom back from Murtagh, and said "Yes."

Murtagh suddenly struck, putting her on the defensive as she parried and blocked blow after blow. Ten minutes…Murtagh leaned back to avoid a stab…Illera's face was screwed up in concentration…Ducking a high swipe, Murtagh disarmed her but she rolled free and grabbed her Freedom….Twenty minutes…Blocking another swipe Illera sidestepped and almost tripped over her dragon. Righting herself, she twisted away to avoid the edge of Zar'roc. Thirty minutes…Beads of sweat were rolling down their faces. Block, Parried, Swiped. Almost everyone in the training field had stopped to watch them spar by now. Forty minutes….Illera's strength was ebbing away by now as the Red Rider increased his attacks. Forty-five…..Suddenly, Murtagh twisted his blade and caused Freedom to clatter to the dirt. Flicking the sword point up to her chest, Murtagh said, "Dead."

Both of them were sweating heavily and breathing hard.

"You are competent, for someone who has only healed."

Suddenly, a deep alien voice was broadcasted into everyone's minds. _Oh come on Murtagh, she's more than __competent__, you just don't want to admit how little you have to teach her. Much better than these bumbling soldier fools. _The last part was to Murtagh alone. Irritation flickered through Murtagh's eyes. "Shut up Thorn." Everyone chuckled when they realized it had been the playful dragon who had spoken.

Turning back towards Illera, Murtagh said, "I'll test your magic tomorrow." Illera nodded, and picked up Amira.

"Oh, and have you named your dragon yet?"

"Yes, her name is Amira."

Murtagh nodded, and left the field, Illera heading towards the portrait. Getting there, she looked around. No one there. Discreetly opening the frame, she stepped inside and walked into her room. Setting Amira down on the bed, she changed into a softer fabric. She sat on the bed, contemplating the day's events. _She was Rider._ That alone was frightening enough, but she would have to pay liege to _Galbatorix_. If she wasn't willing to do something…well, she knew what he could do. That was how she fully met Murtagh after all. Speaking of ….._Wow he has a nice body…probably from working out so much…Don't think about that! It's bad enough that you already think he's a friend! You don't want to get your heart broken again do you? _Illera winced. _Well it's been a long day. His Majesty said my training starts tomorrow, so I better get some sleep. _Leaning down on the pillow, her arm curled protectively around Amira, she drifted off to sleep.


	3. Initiation

Fanfiction---A New Hope

Chapter Three- Initiation

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.

Okie. Here goes.

**(A/N, Thorn is Italics, Murtagh is bold)**

Murtagh flopped down on his bed. **She was really good for a**__**healer….**Thorn snorted. _What, you don't think healers should be allowed to defend themselves?_ **No, it's….I didn't think she would have time to practice?** _She probably doesn't. But she lasted forty-five minutes against you, which is no small feat…_…**…I'm trying to figure her out. Those symbols on her sword….I've never seen anything quite like them. And come to think of it…I've never seen someone who looks the tiniest bit like her…**Thorn was silent. **Thorn? You know something don't you…tell me. **_Shruikan mentioned this….but I didn't think it was for real. There are different lands, other than Alagaesia. The elves came from a land called Alaea. The Urgals followed them. The humans came from somewhere else, I don't know where. So Illera's ancestors must have come here. _**Her parents, **Murtagh realized. **She told me they were dead.** _Probably...Thorn said. She probably is the only person in Alagaesia who is "Oriental". _**Well…..let's get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.** Thorn made no reply. Murtagh tried connection to the dragon's mind, but found him asleep.

"Night." Murtagh said aloud.

Illera woke up when someone knocked on her door. She yawned. _What time is it…_ around 6, early morning, judging by the sun outside. Amira was already awake, and she said _Get the door already!_ **Fine…** She opened the door. Murtagh stood there, fully dressed. Illera thought, _ah shit! I think it's a good thing I actually wear clothes to sleep._ Reverting her attention to Murtagh, she said, "Yes?"

Murtagh had woken up early. Galbatorix had told him that the rooms next to him were to be Illera's. And now, he was seeing her straight from sleep. _Ahhh..she's actually very pretty…especially for someone who isn't Alagaesian. ._

She asked, "Yes?" in a rough voice, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Murtagh swallowed.

"..Galbatorix wants you to move into different rooms."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And where, pray tell, are these rooms?"

"Next to mine."

She didn't show any emotion, though Murtagh felt surprise drift from her.

"Alright then."

"You can move all your things tonight. Right now, I want to test you on your magic."

She blinked. "Okay, but first let me change."

_I think she looks fine…_Thorn chuckled. _**She's changing into day wear you turtle**__. _

_Since when did you start calling me a turtle?_

Just then, Illera came out of her closet. "Right then, let's go." Picking up Amira, she followed Murtagh out the door.

"We're going to be testing outside, but first, you haven't eaten yet have you?" Murtagh asked.

She shook her head.

"I haven't either, let's go to the kitchens."

They went down to the kitchens, and Murtagh broke the silence. "How did you learn magic?"

Her eyes hardened slightly. "Almost my whole family were magic users, and some of them were Riders. Riders of a different sort of something. My mother taught me the basics, and the infirmary the rest."

_So she __was__ different...__** She was raised to defend herself, not a very happy childhood I imagine,**_ Thorn butted into his thoughts.

After they had eaten, he stood up.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

She followed him outside. _Why do I get the impression she likes to follow me…_

"Raise the pebble to eye level."

She did so easily. He shot an arrow and told her to retrieve it. No trouble there. He asked her to split a tree. Easily done. Kill a thrush? No problem. He gave her about 10 more problems.

"Ok. We're done. We can go move your belongings now. Afterwards, the King wants us to dine with him." Murtagh said, spitting the last part out.

"Okay."

They went back to Illera's room. She really didn't have many things; a shelf of books, a bag of toiletries, her clothes, writing utensils, sword, bow, and quiver. Murtagh tackled the books, and put them in a box and shrunk it. Illera went into her closet and packed all her clothes into a trunk and also shrunk it. Grabbing an overnight bag, she put all the boxes and her sword, bow and quiver into the bag. Picking the bag up, she walked alongside Murtagh to her new rooms, as she didn't know where they were. Reaching her rooms, she went in and started unpacking. Unpacking took about an hour. After Murtagh finished the books, Illera was still organizing her closet. When she was done, Murtagh had fallen asleep. She grinned and checked the time…late afternoon.

Now she could decorate her rooms. There were five rooms; a bedroom, a sitting room, study, bathroom, and a closet. She painted (with magic) the walls of the closet black, the bedroom white and black, the study, bathroom, and sitting room white. The furniture was changed to white and black, according to how the walls were painted. By the time she was done, it was almost dinner and she was exhausted. Illera woke Murtagh up and told him she was going to go get ready.

Murtagh gave her a strange look, and said, "Illera, it's only five." To which she responded, "You're a bachelor –here he rolled his eyes-you should know how women are."

"Eh, true that. So I'll see you at seven then."

She just nodded.

With that, he left and she picked out her outfit; a purple tunic with black leggings and black ankle boots.She then took a shower, and put on her outfit. It was nearly 6:30. She sat down on a sofa and started to read. At ten minutes before the dinner would start, someone knocked on the door and she said, "Come in," not looking up from her book. It was Murtagh, dressed casually formal in a dwarven shirt and black pants. She looked up. Murtagh's eyes had widened.

"No wonder you needed so much time," he teased. She laughed.

"You look good too."

He snorted. "This is the result of getting ready in fifteen minutes. Anyways, we should go now." She nodded and followed him out the door. Reaching the room, Murtagh opened the door and let Illera go in first. Inside, Galbatorix sat at a 12-person table surrounded by his courtiers. In front of the King were two empty seats, and he beckoned the two Riders to sit. Shooting a pained look at Illera, he sat down. Illera did the same. Dishes were brought out and a play began. Romeo and Juliet, Romeo being Eragon and Juliet being Illera Illera got a kick out of that.

"I've never even _met_ Shadeslayer."

Even Galbatorix looked bored. The play was so…stupid! When it ended, Illera's head was on Murtagh's shoulder, and most of the courtiers were trying to find a comfortable position in their chairs. Shaking Illera awake, Murtagh turned his attention to Galbatorix. He signaled for both Riders to come up, and the courtiers would go. He whispered in Murtagh's ear, and Murtagh nodded or shook his head. Then he called Illera over, and said, "Murtagh thinks you are fine for the time being. More training awaits you tomorrow. I think that is all. Goodnight, Murtagh, Illera." Illera couldn't wait to get out of the room, but she curtseyed and made Murtagh bow before they left.

"What did you do that for? You know how much I hate him." Murtagh said angrily.

Illera looked him in the eye.

"You might hate him, but now at least you're on his good side. Anyways, what did he ask you?"

"How you were doing in swordplay and magic."

"Oh." She yawned. "I think I'm going to go to bed now."

"Tomorrow we'll concentrate on the ancient language."

"M'kay… G'Night."

_Amira? _**Yes little one. **_Nothing, just checking._ **You like Murtagh don't you?** Asked Amira, amused.

_Murtagh? Of course not. He's just…_

**Intriguing, nice, sensitive, strong, smart, and witty right?** reading the word's straight from Illera's mind. Irritation flooded her. _He might be all of those things, but I feel nothing for him._

**Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhm. Of courrrrrrrrrrrse. And I'm a chicken. **_You know what…..forget it, _an annoyed Illera said. _Let's get some sleep. _

Murtagh wasn't tired at all. The play….Illera and Eragon… he felt something. Jealousy? Anger? He just didn't know _why_ he felt like that. And then Illera's head fell onto his shoulder…_._Now he was just thinking. About having another Rider, one who could become his friend. He would make her go as soon as possible though. She didn't deserve to live here, in the castle, under Galbatorix's command, willing or not. He was growing….fond? of her. He was…_Beautiful, smart, and funny?_ Asked Thorn sarcastically. Murtagh sighed. **Shut up. I haven't been with a girl in ages.**

_Yes, ever since the Burning Plains you've been spending all your time with Illera. _**Illera might be all of what you just said, but I wouldn't love her anyways. She'd just be one more thing Galbatorix could use against me.** **…Thorn? **_Yes? _**Do you want to go flying? **_Yes. _**Let's go then.** He walked through the castle, and stopped near the dragon hold. **Thorn?** _Coming… _He flew out and landed next to Murtagh. _Ready?_** Mhm. **He climbed onto Thorn. _We hadn't been flying in forever. _**I know.**_ Let's go! _

They flew for about 2 hours. Landing, Murtagh said good-bye to Thorn and walked back to his rooms, and fell asleep.

**EragonPeep: Lol. Thanks! You'll find out more about "Heart-broken again" later. **

**Elfy14: haha I love Murtagh too. Thanks!**


	4. Tomorrow

Thanks to all my reviewers

Thanks to all my reviewers!! –My best friends-lol

I updated this a bit late because I was cracking up when I was reading Spottedstar106's

My House. Read it! It's so funny. Anywayssss….

Fanfiction--A New Hope

Chapter Four—Tomorrow

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.**

The next day, Illera woke up a bit early. _Amira…you there? _**Yes little one?**_ I think your training will start soon, as soon as you're big enough, Thorn or Shruikan will teach you._** Mmm'kay.** The dragon yawned. _I'm going to go grab something to eat ok? _**Mm, yah sure. **Rolling her eyes at her dragon's laidback attitude, Illera dressed in a casual red shirt with black pants, and those ankle boots. She arrived at the kitchens, and took an offered pastry from one of the chefs. Heading back up, she was walking past Murtagh's rooms when his door opened.

"Oh, sorry." Illera said, startled.  
"Sorry…I didn't see you." Murtagh said, slightly embarrassed.

Illera gave him a half smile. "Where are we studying?"

"In my study, after I eat."

"Okay. Do you want me to go in now?"

"Sure."

She brushed past him into his rooms. He nodded and left. _I want to see how Murtagh lives every day…_ She peeked inside every room, and sat in the study. _He really likes red.._ Almost everything in the rooms was red. Chewing her pastry, she stood up and began examining his books. _**Murtagh is quite the scholar... **_Amira said. Illera didn't say anything to that. She finished her pastry, and heard the door open. Turning, she saw Murtagh standing there, staring at her impassively. As if shaken out of a daze, he walked over.

"Let's start." Walking over to one of the shelves Illera had just been at, he selected a book and flipped it open. He walked over to the desk, and motioned for Illera to sit.

"Okay, so first you can say this…." The lesson continued until lunch. Then, after they finished eating, they headed towards the sparring fields and trained for about two hours. Illera improved greatly in the first several weeks. After they trained, they would go back to their rooms and shower. It would be around 4:00 now, and dinner was usually at 5:00. After dinner, they would just sit around and talk. This continued for several weeks. But then…Galbatorix announced a Ball. Suddenly, there was a huge stampede of courtiers trying to find Illera. Murtagh did his best not to look disgruntled.

She was actually with Murtagh, curled on his sofa. "Hey, thanks for letting me in.-she winced as several men ran through the halls screaming her name.-I don't even know them!"

Murtagh chuckled. "I can stop it, if you want."

"Yes, please do!"

Murtagh grinned. Leaving the room, he strode through out the palace shouting, "FOR EVERYONE SEARCHING FOR RIDER ILLERA! SHE ALREADY IS GOING WITH SOMEONE! SHE WOULD GREATLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WOULD STOP SEARCHING FOR HER!" Murtagh grinned as several guys' looked about ready to cry. But then they looked up.

They started to chase him, screaming, "WHERE IS SHE?!"

Murtagh muttered, "Ah, damn," Then he cast an invisibility spell, "Make me invisible."

Running for his room, he undid the spell and went in, only to find Illera had a pained expression on her face.

"And who, pray tell, am I going with?"

"Me." Murtagh said easily, grinning.

She sighed. "..If that is what I must do…"

"Hey! You're acting like going with me is a bad thing!"

"With good reason," Illera teased. "When is the Ball anyways?"

"Tomorrow."

"OH MY FUCK, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Illera shrieked, horrified. "I HAVEN'T GOTTEN MY GOWN YET!!" and ran out of the room, leaving a very bewildered Murtagh behind.

"Women," he muttered, shaking his head.

It was the day of the ball. Illera decided to wear a white gown that swept the floor. She was searching for her shoes when a knock on the door sounded.

"Come in!" she called distractively, still searching for those elusive shoes. She heard footsteps behind her. Finally finding those stupid heels, she put them on and turned around to see who it was. It was Murtagh, wearing a black tunic.

She asked, "So how do I look?"

Stunned, he said, "Um gah gah."

She frowned slightly. "What?"

_**What the ever-so-eloquent Murtagh means, is that he needs a cold shower right now. **_Thorn said dryly.

Murtagh flushed.

Illera laughed. She knew better than to think it was real. "Come on, let's go already."

Reaching the Great Hall, Illera opened the door and went in, Murtagh following. Everyone turned to see who it was, and nearly all the men turned green when they saw accompanying Illera was Murtagh. Smiling and waving at them was Galbatorix, who wasn't with anyone. Most people kept well out of his way as he moved across the room.

"EVERYONE DANCE!" he screamed. A fast song began from the musicians that was playing in the corner.

"May I have this dance?" Murtagh asked Illera.

"Yes, but what if I said no?" Illera teased.

"Then I would beg you for it." Murtagh said his face serious but a sparkle in his eye.

Illera laughed; a sound that he felt he could live on forever.

"Let's dance." She said.

He didn't reply, just took her by the waist and twirled her closer. Taking her hand in his, and placing his other hand on her waist, they danced faster and faster. _She's a good dancer_, Murtagh remarked to Thorn. **Mhm.** After the dance ended, both of them drifted off to find other partners.

By the end of the night, everyone was exhausted, and Illera was no exception. She dimly heard Galbatorix call for one last dance. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned and saw Murtagh.

"Can I have this last dance?"

Illera felt herself smile. "Of course," she replied.

It was a slow dance. Murtagh took her hand in his. She subtly leaned in closer.

"Tonight wasn't that bad was it?" she asked him.

"Not as bad as they usually are," was his response.

"And why is that?" she asked.

He so wanted to say, "Because you're here with me," but didn't.

"I don't know.'

"Oh."

They danced in silence for a bit. The last notes faded, and Galbatorix announced, "I hope you all have enjoyed this wonderful Ball. I expect that you all are tired, so you may go now." Galbatorix turned and went out a different exit. Illera and Murtagh walked back to their rooms. She checked the time; pretty late. Illera went into her room and changed out of her dress and into loose black pants and a white shirt, like the kind they used at the infirmary. She was about to climb into bed when a knock on the door interrupted her. Sighing, she went back to the door and opened it. Murtagh stood there, and she immediately felt just a bit happier.

"Yeah?"

Murtagh wanted to talk to her. Badly. But…he sighed. _He'd finally realized his feelings for her, and desperately wanted to tell her, but didn't want to scare her away. She meant far too much to him. _

"Yeah?" she asked, wearing short shorts and a white shirt. He sighed inwardly. Didn't she know what she did to him? Couldn't she tell?

"… I wanted to talk to you Illera."

"About what?"

He hesitated and looked around. "Not here."

She nodded and let him in, and they sat in her sitting room.

"Illera, you _are_ going to leave soon right? To the Varden?"

She looked up, shocked. "...What?"

"You'll have to leave as soon as Amira is big enough. Before Galbatorix forces you to pay alliance to him, willingly or not."

"Murtagh-"

"No, Illera listen to me. Once Amira is old enough, you have to go. Flee to the Varden, and take the other egg with you."

By now Amira had only grown to half of Thorn's size.

"Murtagh, I can't go."

"Why?" he looked desperate.

She closed her eyes. Opening them, she said, "I can't go because I love someone, and he's in the castle. I can't leave him."

Murtagh felt his heart drop down into his feet.

"Who?"

She shook her head. "I don't know how to tell him. But I won't leave him."

Murtagh felt his heart crack. "You should tell him."

She looked up. "Do you think so?"

"Yes."

She smiled slightly. "Alright then."

"But…Illera, you have to go. He'll understand, you need to get away from the king."

She nodded. "I'll tell him…Then I will go."

Murtagh wasn't satisfied. "Promise me."

Illera swore it, "I will go once Amira grows large enough, and I tell him that I love him."

"Thank you." He left the room.

_Thorn? _**Yes?**___Thorn, she loves a guy. Not me. And I love her so much… _**Murtagh, you are incredibly stupid. **_I-What? _Thorn closed his mind. _I'm stupid? ..._he thought about Illera. _I want her to be happy, _he realized. _If that means I have to lose her…_sighing, he undressed and fell onto the bed.

Illera sighed. She loved Murtagh. She was certain of it now. Everything that he did, she would watch. After tonight's conversation she would have to tell him. She'd sworn it in the Ancient Language. But…what if he pushed her away? She wouldn't be able to deal with that. She valued his friendship far too much… And if Galbatorix found out, that was something he could use against her. Illera sighed. _I wish that life wasn't so complicated._

She sighed again. _Screw that. I should get some sleep now._ She leaned back against the sheets and fell asleep.

**EragonPeep: Okay, I'll add more description when necessary. **

**Elfy14: Good guess, but if you read Illera's response, she's never met Eragon. I chose Eragon as Romeo because their on opposite sides of the war, and in Romeo and Juliet, the families hate each other and fight.**

**Spottedstar106: Yeah, Murtagh's way cooler than Eragon. –lol-**

**Samantha hockeychick08: Thanks! This is my first fic, I didn't know what to expect.**


	5. Love

Fanfic—A New Hope

Chapter 5---Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize**.

Illera got up early, thinking. _How am I going to tell Murtagh…when? I like him so much… __**And what if he rejects you?**_ Amira asked. Illera sighed. She hadn't been thinking about that, knowing that if she did she would start to cry. _Then I'll hold to my word what I swore to Murtagh. I will go to the Varden. _Amira sighed. _**Little one, Thorn and Shruikan have been teaching me but I am nowhere near finished. I'm not old enough either, or big enough. Shruikan said I have a talent for flying, but my size is still in question. And he only said that I'm agile, I don't know that I could fly long enough to get rid of the trail. **_Illera could sense immense frustration in Amira's mind; she desperately wanted to help her Rider, but found that her _size_ couldn't allow it. Illera told her, _I don't blame you Amira, if we tried to fly too early you could be crippled. I just don't know what I will do._

Murtagh had had enough. He was going to tell Illera about his feelings for her, whatever they were. _I want her to be happy, _he realized. _If that means I have to lose her…Then so be it._ He strode over to her door and knocked.

Illera said, "Come in." she sounded distracted. He went in. Illera was sitting on her bed, looking out the window with a slight frown on her face. She looked up and smiled tiredly. Murtagh sat down.

"Illera…"

"Yes?"

He didn't know how to say it, so he just pulled her close to him and kissed her fiercely.

_If he couldn't have her forever, he could just kiss her this once. _Illera's eyes widened, and she kissed back with just as much passion. Murtagh broke the kiss.

"Illera, why are you leading me on?" he asked angrily. "You said you loved someone else."

Illera said softly, "I said I loved someone. I said I was afraid to tell him. And I swore to you I would tell him I love him. Murtagh….I think…I love you."

Murtagh asked, "How do I know that Illera? How do I know you aren't lying to me?"

Illera hesitated. Then she opened her mind to him, and let him see what she felt about him. He searched for Love. He found it directed at him, and Amira. But there was also despair... Before he could investigate it, Illera closed her mind. She watched him silently.

He could read her expression; please don't break my heart. He sat down next to her. The uncomfortable silence stretched on and on.

"Murtagh?" Illera finally said uncertainly, a thousand questions in her eyes. He knew for sure he loved her, in that instant, when she was vulnerable. Without speaking, he pressed her to him and kissed her even more passionately. She sighed and he looked into her eyes, seeing whether she wanted to continue or not. He felt her consent, lifted her shirt and tossed it to the ground. She was propped on both elbows, watching him. He returned his attention to her, and she kissed him softly. _Mmm…_

Thorn broke in disgustedly, _**You can block me out now. And don't go doing any funny stuff with her. **_Murtagh didn't reply, just concentrated on Illera. She kissed him again, and he pressed against her fiercely, hearing her breath catch slightly. Not once did he dream that Illera would love him and they would be together.

Illera's breath caught in her throat. She had to be dreaming. Murtagh was so _perfect_. He was everything she'd ever wanted. _And what about Ryan? _Her inner voice asked. _He was perfect too. _She shuddered slightly. _Ryan was too much._

Murtagh noticed her thinking.

"Illera? Is something wrong?"he asked, worried.

"No."

He kissed her, and she kissed back tenderly. Afterwards, he lay his head on her pillow, pulling her tight against him.

"Illera?"

"Yes?"

"It's going hurt tomorrow."

"Thanks for the warning."

Smiling, he lay next to her, his arm curled protectively around her, and fell asleep.

_**Illera, wake up. **__AHHH! _Amira asked a bit grumpily, _**What is it now?**_ _Murtagh said it would hurt, but. AHH!!!!! _Exasperation floated across their link. _**Have fun…**_ Murtagh shifted, blinking. Seeing the painful expression on Illera's face, he laughed.

"Murtagh! It's not-ow- funny!!"

"Ok, now I know for sure you were a virgin."

"Am I really that bad?"

He grinned. "Maybeeee…..no! I didn't mean that!!! Well…you're hurting now aren't you?"

"Oh. AHH!!!" she grimaced. "Do you know how to make the pain go away?"

"Yes. Waise Heill!"

"That's it?"

"Mhm. Come one, let's get dressed."

They dressed quickly, Illera changing into different clothes. They were on their way to eat, (It was near dinner now) when a guard called out to them, "RIDERS! The King wished to see you!"

Illera shot a questioning look at Murtagh.

He said in reply, "You have to pledge yourself." Illera nodded.

Walking to the Great Hall, they entered to find Galbatorix still eating.

"Ahh, my Riders. Illera, I believe you must pledge yourself to my cause?"

"Yes my lord. (Now in the ancient language) I pledge myself to the Greatest Rider of all**.** –she looked up- Galbatorix."

He nodded, satisfied. "That's all." 

_What is she doing?!_ _Doesn't she know-_Thorn cut him off. _**Murtagh, you underestimate her. She said she pledged herself to the greatest Rider of all. In her eyes, that is you. Then after that, in a different sentence, she just said Galbatorix. **_Then the King nodded. "That's all."

Illera and Murtagh left the room.

"So no questions about what I said?" Illera asked.

"Thorn explained it to me," was his reply.

"You can't figure things out by yourself?" she teased.

"Hardly," he answered dryly.

They reached Murtagh's room and entered.

Sitting on his bed, they talked for quite awhile.

"….Murtagh?" Illera asked cautiously.

"Hm?"

"Nevermind."

She fell asleep on top of him.

**Yes, yes I know, very fluffy at the end. One review last chapter. Thanks. **

**But real thanks to EragonPeep, he was the sole reviewer! Must have been lonely…-hint hint- And yes, I loved that comment too EP. Thorn shows he isn't **_**always**_** on Murtagh's side haha. R&R!**


	6. GoodBye

**Ohhhh sorry EP! My bad…*grins sheepishly* **

Fanfiction-----A New Hope

Chapter Six------Good-Bye

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.**

**Thank you reviewers!!**

_**Illera wake up! **__Wha… __**Murtagh's watching you sleep. **_Illera opened her eye.

"Murtagh?"

"Illera, you have to go soon. Galbatorix is sending us to battle with the Varden. We leave tomorrow. And…I want you to cast an illusion over the King's men, one that will have them thinking you're killing Varden troops, but you're just going to survey the battle okay?"

"I wouldn't leave you so soon, but I must do what I must do."

"Good. Now, I've stolen the green egg and left an illusion in its place, a rock that is the same shape, size and color of the egg. It will disappear in ten days…he won't notice it before then because he rarely visits the chamber. I also have two letters, one to give to Nasuada and one to Eragon."

She nodded. "When do we leave?"

"We fly tomorrow. Now, I can help you pack."

They went over to her room and packed her items into larger box and shrunk it. Then Murtagh put it in a bag.

"That's it?" he asked.

Illera nodded. "You can have my books."

Murtagh was then called down to Galbatorix, who gave him his orders and warned him not to fail this time when he tried to capture Eragon. Murtagh said he would do his best. Amira was able to fly. The day passed quickly, with Murtagh and Illera talking, knowing the next time they were together could be in a hundred years. And suddenly, the day was upon them. They flew towards the plains **(A/N, not the Burning Plains, just plains)** and waited. Illera was in her tent, checking everything when Murtagh came in.

"It's time." He said.

Illera straightened and hugged him, hard. He kissed her, wishing that everything had been different, wishing that the kiss would never end, and wishing that he was free.

"I love you Murtagh. Forever and always." Then she climbed onto Amira and flew, Murtagh right behind her, on Thorn. He touched her mind. _I love you too. _She turned, and gave him a sad smile.

"Good-bye."

She hovered at a safe distance away from Eragon, and the battle. Casting the illusion, she surveyed the destruction. _Lives ending every second…_ Her stomach turned. She turned her head as a huge blue dragon fly out to meet Murtagh. _I hope he can handle it…oh! _Her eyes rolled up in their sockets as the energy for the illusion whooshed out of her in a big chunk. _**Illera, that dragon is bigger than Thorn! **__I know…But they will be fine. _

Suddenly, the Varden noticed her. Arrows flew up, and she re-directed to hit the Empire's men, killing dozens. Illera smiled grimly. This was going to be interesting.

Murtagh flew out to meet Eragon, desperately hoping his brother would listen. Their blades flashed and clanged as steel met steel. He overpowered the already tired Eragon.

"Eragon listen to me. (Now speaking in the ancient language)The Purple Rider is fleeing from the King. I helped her escape. She has two letters in her possession, one addressed to Nasuada and one for you. She has completed her training under me, and can fight excellently." The battle was ending as the Varden closed in on Empire soldiers.

"I do not have much time. Galbatorix has ordered me to try and capture you. I have tried. He will be in a terrible mood when he finds one of his Riders have disappeared and the last egg gone. Her dragon is female; she will explain everything. For now, brother, I must go." Murtagh sheathed his sword, walked back to Thorn and flew off.

Eragon was shocked. _Saphira? __**I cannot believe that was the truth. Yet it must be; he spoke in the ancient language. **_The Purple Rider flew over. Eragon's eyes widened at the sight of her. _Purple?!_

"I am Illera, the Oriental Rider, as I don't like being called the Purple Rider."

"Eragon Shadeslayer." She studied him. "I have to go report to Nasuada now, and explain everything to her."

Illera nodded and withdrew a letter addressed to him. "I thought you might want it before everyone else sees it."

He put it in his pocket. _I'll read it later._ He and Illera walked over to Arya, whose eyes narrowed with distrust. Nasuada joined them as Eragon explained everything Murtagh had told him.

"We don't know whether or not she can be trusted," Nasuada said.

Illera broke in and said, "I give my fealty to Eragon Shadeslayer, Leader of the Riders."

She turned back to Nasuada. "You were saying?" a half-smile on her lips.

Nasuada thought for a minute. "You may stay with the Varden and go with Eragon to Ellesmera."

Illera nodded, and the meeting broke up. It was late, so Illera took an extra sleeping bag from Angela the herbalist and lay under Amira's wing, thinking of the possible long years before she could again be with Murtagh.

**Galbatorix123: Yes, I tried to use less modern stuff…but I have no imagination. As for the Oriental stuff…Asia intrigues me. **

**Elfy14: hehe you shall find out soon enough.**

**EragonPeep: Thank you!! **

**My-Love-Gren-Gren: LOL! Thanks!!**

**Haha thank you my most constant reviewers, Elfy14 and EragonPeep. **


	7. Surprise!

Thank you all my reviewers!

On to the next chapter!!! (Most of my chapters are already written, I just have to type them)

Fanfiction---A New Hope

Chapter Seven---Surprise

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is CP's. **

Illera found Nasuada, and gave her the letter that Murtagh had written. Nasuada nodded, before going to meet King Orrin. Illera went back to Amira, thinking. They were leaving tomorrow for Ellesmera, for the elves to evaluate the Riders, to complete the Riders' training, and for Queen Islanzadi to know Arya was not dead. Illera scrambled onto Amira and they flew to the edge of a lake. _I've always loved being near water…_ _I miss him already, and it's barely been a day. I hope we find another Rider soon… _Arya had taken the green egg and there was scheduled to be a touching at noon. It was seven now. _**Illera…? **__Yes? __**Eragon and Saphira are coming.**_She reached out with her mind. Sure enough, Eragon and Saphira weren't very far away. _Kay._ She thought about Murtagh compared to Ryan. Ryan wasn't as sensitive as Murtagh was, when he wanted to be. She also doubted if Ryan could've gone through everything Murtagh had. Ryan was a great guy…she mused, but Murtagh was far more… complex. Eragon landed and came over to her. She started thinking about Murtagh and Eragon. Eragon was softer, kinder. Murtagh's hard life had had an impact on him, making him colder, more ruthless. She understood that; he wasn't the only one who had led a hard life.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Can you tell me what Galbatorix is like?"

"You can see for yourself."

She gave him all her memories that involved Galbatorix, stripping them of any emotion.

Illera felt Eragon's shock and pity waft through the air. _Amira? __**…Yes? **_She sounded distracted. _Oh, are you talking to Saphira? __**Yes. **__Never mind then. __**Okay. **_Eragon finished going through the memories, still in shock. _Good thing I took out all the emotion, he would have guessed about Murtagh and I._

"We have to go to the touching soon." Eragon said, still shocked.

She gave him a half-smile. "Yes I know. Hopefully there is another Rider soon."

They left the lake and made their way to the area where the touching was to take place. Arya stood guard next to the egg. Everyone within the age limit touched in, forming a long line. Suddenly Illera saw someone she thought she would never see again. Someone she had run from. _Holy…NO!"_She stood, horrorstruck as the person touched the egg and a CRACK split the air. They touched the dragon. "Ow," the person muttered. She knew that voice. It was him.

Reaching the mysterious person, she swore.

"Dammit." She cast a privacy spell quickly.

"What, not happy to see me?"

"Yes…and no."

He blinked.

"Huh?"

"I'm happy we have another Rider, maybe not so overjoyed its you."

His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I haven't forgotten what you did to me Ryan."

His expression darkened. "I apologized over and over for that!"

"It didn't make it any better."

He didn't reply.

"I'll talk to you later."

Undoing the spell, she strode out of the area, mounted Amira and took off.

Eragon frowned. Illera had rushed to the new Rider-Ryan, he learned- and placed a privacy spell over them. Eragon couldn't see her expression, but saw Ryan's face turn from shock, elation, and then darkened. Then Ryan nodded, Illera undid the spell and strode out of the grassy place and flew off. Ryan clutched his dragon and made his way over to Eragon.

"Shadeslayer," he said reverently.

"Rise," Eragon said, not knowing what to make of him. "Your dragon is probably hungry, you can go down to the kitchens and get something to eat."

"Where are you going?" Ryan asked curiously.

"To find our Oriental Rider." He walked over to Saphira, scrambled up on her and took off.

Ryan made his way along the line. When it was his turn, he touched the green egg. Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK! He was a dragon Rider. Then, out of nowhere, Illera appeared and they talked for a bit. Truly, he wished he hadn't done what he did, but Illera seemed to have hardened. Now, after meeting Rider Shadeslayer, he was making his way to the kitchens.

Illera absently scratched an M in the sand. _M for Murtagh…_ Hearing wing beats, she quickly scuffed the sand and destroyed the M. _Murtagh…_ She sighed inwardly. It could be many years before she could be with him again._ And what if he loves a different woman by then? _Amira scoffed. _**Please. As if he would do that.**_

Eragon appeared. _Why does he always come when I'm thinking..? _

"Who was Ryan? Your lost friend?"

Illera didn't reply. Eragon sighed to himself. She was so complicated!

Murtagh flew with Thorn back to Uru'baen as slowly as possible, dreading when he would meet Galbatorix. He entered the castle and went into the throne room.

The king asked, "Well? You did not capture Shadeslayer. You had another Rider with you. WHERE ARE THEY!?" the King thundered.

"Shadeslayer escaped. Illera disappeared."

The King's face turned black. BAM! He slammed Murtagh into the wall and another torture session began.

"We leave for Ellesmera tomorrow. Are you ready?"

"I always am. Did you read your letter yet?"

"No, but I will now." He took out his letter and opened it.

_Dear Eragon Shadeslayer, Leader of the Dragon Riders,_

_The Riders are in grave danger. Galbatorix grows ever stronger. I told Illera to flee and take the other egg with her; it is better with the Varden than here. And if Nasuada would not accept her—a better bargaining chip there couldn't be. As you read this, Galbatorix will be in a very black mood, planning another torture session for me. But I will risk it. Galbatorix found Amira's egg when he went back to Vroengard and searched for more…but it was the last egg there. Illera tricked Galbatorix into thinking she had sworn allegiance to him. Evidently, She did not. Now, she should pledge herself to you, but she refuses to pledge to anyone else. Trust me, Eragon. It may be many years till we meet again. Farewell; brother, and steer clear of my path. Galbatorix will allow no more loopholes._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Murtagh Morzanson_

_Rider of Thorn_

_No wonder Illera seems so…distant. Months near Galbatorix must have been hell. __**I pity Murtagh. He has become cold and ruthless…**__No doubt because of Galbatorix. _It became dark. Eragon wondered what Illera was thinking, to enable her to sit so still, so silently and for so long. He sensed sadness and…_**and what? **_Loss.

Nasuada was alone in her tent. She opened the letter Illera had given her. The last time she had seen Murtagh up close had been too long ago. She sighed quietly. She had been attracted to Murtagh, but didn't love him. _Or did she? _Now, what did he have to say to her?

_Dear Nasuada, Leader of the Varden,_

_Illera the Oriental Rider holds the key to your success. I suspect…something, and she can lead you to even more resources, which will secure your victory. I helped her flee from the king, who believes she has sworn to him. I warn you though; angering her has no positive outcome for you. She should train with Eragon, as he will know her capabilities. _

_I must go now._

_Yours sincerely, _

_Murtagh Morzanson _

_Rider of Thorn_

She put the letter down and sighed. "Murtagh…" she whispered. "Why did you have to be captured?"

**Elfy14: Lol. Yeah, very weird, they have to lose each other to save one another. Lol.**

**EragonPeep: In the summary, it says there's a weird mix of time. The Burning Plains have already happened, yet, Eragon, Illera and Ryan must go to train. (First time for Eragon) Very strange, I know, but that's how the story worked out. **

**My-Lover-Gren-Gren: Lol! No short shorts haha. Don't worry, the next chapter is half-written, I just have to type it. –sigh- I'm a very slow typer. **

**Wise Pallas Athena: Thanks for the suggestions! Some of then I already used, are using or plan to use. Yes, Katrina will be rescued, they will finish their training, Eragon will figure out what Solembum said, and he will free Murtagh. You're like psychic lol. **

**Remember to R&R!!!**


	8. Friendship?

Thank you my two reviewers Wise Pallas Athena and EragonPeep!

Fanfiction----A New Hope

Chapter Eight-------Friendship?

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

Illera woke up. All of her possessions were packed; she'd never unpacked them. They would leave soon for Ellesmera, after noon with Arya, Orik, Ryan, and his unnamed dragon. Illera crept out from under Amira's wing and went to find Eragon and Arya. She found them together with Orik a dwarf she'd never met, but immediantly liked him. Pretty soon, Ryan and his dragon came.

"Ok. Saphira can carry three people maximum. I think Orik Ryan and his dragon can ride on Saphira and the bags we can strap to Amira. Is that ok?"

Illera gave her consent, and Arya agreed.

"Oh yes, speaking of your dragon, Ryan have you named him yet?"

He nodded. "Yes, he wishes to be called Spitfire."

Eragon hid his surprise well, thought Arya and Illera still caught it.

"Very well. Is everyone ready?"

A chorus of "Yes's" was heard.

"Ok. Everyone get your bags and put them near Amira. Keep a weapon on you."

Everyone hastened to do what he said. Everyone except Illera and Arya; Arya already had hers and was helping Illera strap both bags to Amira. There were three bags left, and they roped them on.

"Ready?" Eragon called.

"Yes." Illera said.

Eragon mounted Saphira and helped Orik and Ryan up, as Illera scrambled up on Amira and Arya climbed on.

"Let's go!" Eragon shouted.

There were huge wind gusts as Amira and Saphira took off, leaving tracks in the dirt.

"Arya?" Illera asked cautiously. The elf was so different! She didn't show any emotion, or her opinions, just…

"Yes?"

"When do you think the war will end?"

Arya thought for a second. "You, Eragon, and Ryan still have to train. When you reach your full potential, maybe in a few years, then you have a chance to topple Galbatorix. I would say at least a decade."

Illera's heart sank. _That long?!_

Arya's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"No reason." Arya remained suspicious, but did not press her further.

"Illera…you are not with anyone are you?"

Pain suddenly flared through her eyes, but Arya did not see.

"…No."

"Good. That is one less weapon against you."

Illera did not reply, but asked another question.

"Arya, you are not with someone either, am I correct?"

".Yes. I...I was, but he died."

Illera said nothing, knowing pity was the last thing anyone wanted. They flew in silence for a few hours. Then, Eragon's mind touched hers for an instant, saying _we're going to land for the night, near that lake. _ She sent an ok back, and told Amira to land.

Saphira thudded down, and Amira copied her. The Riders scrambled off and helped their passengers off. Orik went over to Amira and opened his bag, taking out cooking supplies while everyone else took their sleeping bags and spread them out. _**Illera, you cannot keep living like this, you keep thinking of Murtagh and missing him. That is fine, but others are starting to notice!**_Amira scolded her. _Amira, I know that. I'm trying to stop the memories, and just live now. _Then, Eragon, Arya, and Ryan came over and told her about elvish customs.

"In Ellesmera, you need to learn greetings, elvish politics and subtlety. I shall teach all of you tomorrow."

The Riders gave their consent, and drifted away.

"Arya, can I talk to you privately?"

She was startled. "..Yes."

Once they had gone far enough from the fire so it was mostly shadows, Eragon spoke.

"Arya, why do you think Illera is so…withdrawn?"

It caught Arya completely off guard. "Compared to humans, yes, she is withdrawn. Compared to elves, however…she is playing the game of power that we all play, but few master. Yet, I agree. She is seventeen, she should be livelier. Something, I gather, must have happened in Uru'baen. Sadness drifts from her mind constantly. But it is not our place to talk. Her sorrows are her own."

Eragon nodded, knowing full well what she meant.

They stood in silence for a bit, and heard Orik tinkering around with the food, Illera and Ryan trying to make sure what he created was edible.

"Arya, how far are we from Ellesmera?"

"Not far, about a half day. Once we approach the edge of elvish lands, you, Illera and I must place invisibility wards around everyone. The Queen should be the first to know. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I shall inform Illera."

They headed back to the fire, only to find what Orik had made was… non-edible to be nice, so Illera mixed what was left of the supplies into a stew, which they ate and washed the bowls. After eating, everyone crawled into their sleeping bags, and tried to get some sleep. Everyone except Illera, and one other.

Illera crept out of her sleeping bag and jogged towards the lake to think. Thinking about Arya, about the elves, about Eragon, about Ryan, about everything that had happened to her these past few days. She trailed her fingers in the water. _Ripples…_. Hearing a noise behind her, she turned only to see Ryan. He sat down next to her.

"Illera… I am really sorry for what I did. Couldn't we start over? Us?"

Illera was shocked. She didn't know, didn't think Ryan still loved her.

"Ryan…"

He kissed her.

She pulled away sharply.

"Ryan…stop. What you did with…_her_…Ryan that broke my heart. After my parents were killed and my brother disappeared, do you think I needed that? I'm sorry, but Ryan, I've moved on."

Ryan was shocked. _I know that hurt her...but I didn't know I broke her heart. And I still want her. I think. __**Great job. You've made a royal mess. Just tell her one day, that you'll be there for her, not as a lover, but as a friend. **__I don't know if I really, even truly love her like that._

"W-Who?"

She shook her head. "The less people who know, the better."

_That's why she's always so…sad. _

He pulled her into a hug. "I'll always be here, not as a lover, just as your friend."

She nodded, and broke the hug. "We should get some sleep."

They walked back towards their dragons, crawled into their sleeping bags, and fell asleep.

**Could anyone give me the three lines, you know, the Elvish greetings, May the stars watch over you etc? I'm on vacation at the moment, and didn't think I would start a Fanfiction so I didn't bring the Inheritance books. Please tell me? Thanks in advance!!**

**Elfy14: Yes, so many questions!! Haha. We shall see. (I sound like Tia Dalma from PoC haha)**

**Wise Pallas Athena: Thanks so much!**

**EragonPeep: Yes, it's just started… **

**Remember to Read and Review!!!**


	9. Arrival

**Thanks to all my reviewers!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize**

Fanfiction-----A New Hope

Chapter Nine---Arrival

* * *

Eragon woke up early. Saphira was still sleeping, so he slipped out of the temporary camp to ponder the new Riders. _I certaintly didn't expect two, or the green egg to hatch so fast. Which brings me to…Illera. She is so different, almost like an elf… but she can't be, she came from Uru'baen and Galbatorix surely would have taken advantage of an elf… _He was jostled from his thoughts when Ryan came up to him, looking mournful. 

"What is it?"

"Oh--Nothing Shadeslayer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Shrugging the mystery of Ryan's sadness off, he went back to thinking. _Elves…Arya. She is so special; I can tell she's no ordinary elf…_. He went back to the camp to find everyone woken up and trying to stop Orik from making breakfast. In the end, Arya put together a loaf of bread and vegetables. Everyone, relieved the Orik had not been successful in making their breakfast, quickly finished the food.

"Everyone is ready to fly right?" Eragon asked, for undoubtly he was the leader.

"Yes's" were heard, and everyone got onto their assigned dragon and took off.

* * *

After an hour or so of flying, Arya spoke. 

"Illera, while we have the time, I think I should teach you the Elvish greetings. There are three parts, Astra Esterni ono thelduin, Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, and Un du evarinya ono varda. The first line, Astra Esterni ono thelduin, is for the lesser rank of an elf or person to speak first. Then, Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, is for the higher ranking person to speak. Then the lesser ranked elf finishes it with Un du evarinya ono varda. Do you follow that?"

"Yes. So, for example, if I were to speak with Queen Islanzadi… I would speak first would I not?"

"You would do her a great honor if you speak first."

"That is what I'm aiming for."

Arya chuckled. She was beginning to like the Rider more and more.

"If that is what you wish."

"But would Amira or Saphira have to say the greetings?"

"Yes, they would wait for the person addressing them to speak first as they are Skulblaka, or dragons."

Illera nodded, showing she understood it well.

"I shall teach Eragon and Ryan later tonight." Arya told her.

After about another hour, Arya told Illera to land, and touched Eragon's mind, telling him to land also.

The dragons landed down with several THUDS.

"Arya, why did we land?" Eragon asked, coming over to her.

"We are very near one of our elven cities. I need to teach you and Ryan the greetings, as well as cast invisibility wards. Illera already understands the Elven way." She said calmly.

Illera started putting invisibility wards around herself, Amira and Ryan. She didn't have enough energy for Ryan's dragon, so Eragon did Spitfire, himself and Saphira, and Arya cast the spell around herself and Orik.

They went back to the dragons and continued flying, until Arya said to stop again. This time they were at the gates of Ellesmera. She told Eragon and Illera to hurry and take off the invisibility wards; the gatekeeper needed to see them.

They approached the Gate, and saw the Gatekeeper's eyes widen, and let them pass. As they went through the streets of Ellesmera, heading towards the Tildori **(A/N is that right? I don't have the books with me...)** Hall, where the Queen granted audiences. Arya nodded towards the guards, their eyes widened, but let them pass. The dragons stayed in the courtyard, except for Spitfire; they were too big. Queen Islanzadi sat on her throne, talking to advisors who were rendered silent when they entered. Islanzadi looked up, and an expression of shock, happiness and joy spread through her face. Arya kneeled in front of the Queen.

"Oh my daughter, how I have wronged you!"

Eragon was shocked. Illera could tell, and another look came over his face, just for an instant. Despair.

Arya remained silent, but stood up.

"For seventy years, my mother, I have lived, fought and killed, without once speaking to you. Even y our standards, that is no small span."

Islanzadi had tears in her eyes. "Oh my daughter, will you forgive me?"

Illera thought Arya was going to say no, she was so silent. "Yes."

Smiling, the Queen turned to the Riders.

"Forgive me for ignoring our most important guests."

She turned to each Rider and passes the greeting to each of them.

"I am Eragon Shadeslayer Your Majesty."

"I am Illera, Your Majesty."

"I am Ryan Your Majesty." **(A/N haha Ryan's names is so ordinary compared with everyone else's')**

"Where are your dragons?" the Queen asked.

"They are out in the courtyard, mother." Arya interjected.

"Let us go and see!" Islanzadi sounded so happy; to her there was a large chance of winning the war.

They went out into the courtyard and saw Amira and Saphira surrounded by elves.

Islanzadi stood in front of them and started talking to them. Returning her attention to the Riders, she called an elf forward and told her to take them to their rooms.

"There will be a banquet tonight."

Eragon's room was the largest, being the leader, with Illera and Ryan's rooms next to his.

* * *

It was almost dark, so Illera bathed and took out a white silk tunic like shirt, similar to the one she wore to Galbatorix's dinner, with black pants. She went out and found Amira in the dragon keep, chatting with Saphira. Illera saw Eragon and Ryan, and asked them, 

"Where are we supposed to go?"

"I don't know, let's find an elf."

They found an elf, and asked her where they were supposed to go, and headed over in that direction. They found almost all the elves in there, and they sat down.

Islanzadi was there, supervising. When all the elves were seated, Islanzadi stood up.

"We are here today, to feast in honor of these three Dragon Riders, who are here to rid the land of the evil King Galbatorix!"

The elves cheered, and Islanzadi said, "Let the Feast begin!!"

The three Riders ate and drank, talked laughed and danced until very late. Then Islanzadi stood up again.

"It is late, and we must all be tired. I shall retire to my rooms now."

The three Riders went back to their rooms, not speaking. It had been a glorious night, full of singing and dancing, talk and laughter. Even the dragons had enjoyed it. Illera's mind was fuzzy as she changed into a softer fabric, and lay down to sleep.

* * *

**My-Lover-Gren-Gren: LOL! Every time I read your reviews they make me laugh and people start staring…lol**

**Elfy14: I don't know when Murtagh will be in the chapter again, but I'll try to make it soon.**

**Wise Pallas Athena: THANK YOU FOR THE THREE LINES! It would've taken me forever to find an English version of the books and flip through them!**

**Remember… PLEASE R&R!!**

** Note: I Will not update for at least three days, we are giong somewhere without a computer.  
**


	10. A New way of life Temporarily

**Thank you to all my reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Fanfic----A New Hope**

**Chapter Ten----A New way of life. Temporarily. **

Illera woke up, Amira near the center of the room. She sat up and saw a letter in flowing script on the nightstand, next to a tray of fruits. Opening the letter, she read that all Riders were to meet with Islanzadi, Orik, and Arya in Tialdarí Hall. _I wonder what they want us to do…_ Picking up a peach and biting into it, she selected black leggings and a white shirt and put them on. She finished the peach and knocked on Eragon's door to ask him where to go. He opened the door, Ryan and Arya inside. They greeted her, and walked towards Tialdarí Hall. When they reached the Hall, Islanzadi stood there, looking the tiniest bit worried.

"Tell your dragons to fly to a clearing." She sent the image into the Riders' minds. It was far, away from the hustle and bustle of Ellesmera. They followed the Queen, who strode through the woods confidently, as if it was her second home. She stopped in the clearing, the dragons waiting expectantly. They waited…and waited. Suddenly, the trees bent in the sudden wind, and two mighty THUDs resounded. A huge golden dragon landed, with an elf on its back. Eragon knelt, followed by Illera, and then Ryan.

"Astra Esterni ono thelduin," was repeated three times. Then "Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr," was directed to all of them. "Un du evarinya ono varda," was said.

"Riders, rise. You do me a great honor by speaking first."

He turned to Eragon and raised an eyebrow. "I thought there was only one new Rider, you yourself Shadeslayer."

"We shall tell you our separate stories later."

The elf nodded.

"You knew?!?" Islanzadi cried out. "You knew that Eragon had become a Rider, that Arya was not dead, you knew and did not tell me!?"

Oromis inclined his head. "I was withholding that information from you, because you should have already known. It is your duty to scry the land. You did not."

Islanzadi sighed. "Very well. Now go and train these Riders, so that we may usurp the wicked King."

Islanzadi and Arya stood silently, as the Riders mounted their dragons, and Ryan rode on Saphira. Four dragons took off, and landed after a slight ride, near a hut. The Riders dismounted and Oromis sat on a rock. He beckoned them to sit, and tell him their stories, starting with Eragon. The elf nodded once in awhile, showing he understood. Then it was Illera's turn. Oromis' eyes widened, as e was told there had been one last egg on Vroengard.

"If only I had checked!" Illera continued with the story, stopping with the arrival at Ellesmera. Ryan just said he touched Spitfire's egg, he had hatched and they had come to Ellesmera. Oromis nodded.

"I must know your abilities, though I understand Ryan has had no training, is that correct?"

Ryan nodded, slightly embarrassed.

"No matter, today the dragons shall be tested, and Illera and Eragon shall be as well. Eragon shall be first."

Ryan, Amira, Spitfire, and Illera sat and watched, as Eragon was put through a complex test, ranging from handling magic to his flexibility. Finally, Oromis stopped the test.

"I expected Brom to be able to teach you a little more, but that could not be helps, with his death. Illera, I know you have completed your training under the Red Rider. Afterwards, I must ask some questions regarding the use of magic."

Illera nodded, and was tested on the same test, but she used much less effort. Eragon watched, awed, as she completed what he had struggled for. Oromis sat, astounded, and pondered.

"How do you use the magic?"

She replied that she had combined words into phrases that weren't thought of using before. It had used little energy, and yet still did what she wanted.

Oromis nodded, and said, "Do you three have swords?"

Illera said she did, Eragon and Ryan shook their heads. "Murtagh took Zar'roc, at the battle of the Burning Plains."

"I was not trained in swordplay."

Oromis turned towards Glaedr. "Glaedr shall take the dragons, and test them as well."

The Riders murmured their consent.

"Illera let me see your sword."

She drew Freedom, and handed it hilt-first to Oromis, and he examined it.

"It is a good sword, yet not fit for a Rider. We shall see to this issue immediately."

They followed Oromis back to Tialdarí Hall, to see the Queen. The elven guards bowed to each of them, and murmured "Argetlam." Oromis led the way into the throne room, where Islanzadi was talking to Arya.

"Riders! Why are you here?" she asked.

Oromis answered her, "The Riders are in need of blades, blades fit for Riders. I understand that the maker of all other Riders' swords, Rhunon, has taken a vow not to make anymore, yet they are still in need of swords. I propose that you let it be known these Argetlam need blades, and have a contest of skill. Let all the smiths in the land come; they shall have a time limit of two weeks to forge a blade as fine as they can. Then, a judge will select the finest, and that smith shall create three blades; one emerald green, another a sapphire blue, and the last an amethyst purple. Hurry, for I fear they shall need them soon."

Islanzadi nodded, in thought.

"Mother," Arya interjected, "I would like to be the judge."

The Queen allowed it, and said, "I shall send out notices to all elven cities immediately. They shall arrive in…a month at the most."

The four Riders bowed.

"Then we take our leave." Oromis said with a note of finality.

They walked back to Oromis' hut, to find the dragons waiting. The elf looked up at Glaedr, and he turned back to the others.

"Glaedr says that Saphira and Amira are talented, Amira has the strength of stamina while Saphira has the power of swiftness. Spitfire, while not yet old or big enough, is quite promising." Oromis concluded. They nodded.

"Your training ends for today." They bowed, and went back to their rooms. Food was waiting where it had been in the morning, and Illera consumed a slice of bread. She took a bowl, and filling it with water, whispered, "Draumr kopa."

The bowl changed its image to Murtagh. He lay unconscious, in the room where she had first met him. The room where he had almost given up on life. Galbatorix stood his back to her. She heard a sickening crack, and Murtagh twitched in agony.

She watched helpless, longing to help him but couldn't. Illera watched as Galbatorix branded the Empire's symbol, a flying black dragon, onto his back, over his scar. Murtagh buckled, and dropped onto his side. Galbatorix laughed cruelly.

"Do not defy me again," and left.

Illera released the magic, wanting to kill. _Amira?! Did you see that?! __**Yes little one. I hurt for him, and for you. **__Amira, I must fly to Uru'baen. Now. __**Little one! It is not wise! **__I don't care. __**Fine. We should be back very late if we go now. **_It was 5:20.

Illera scrambled up onto Amira's back, grabbing her sword. Amira jumped out of the room, and flew, flew, and flew. Illera struggled constantly, for holding the energy to bind the wind to Amira's wings had almost caused her to black out. Finally, hours later, Amira hovered outside Illera's old room. She was fatigued. Breaking the glass, Illera crept inside, almost completely overwhelmed by her exhaustion of carrying the wind. No one was there. She filed another bowl with water.

"Draumr kopa." He was on his bed, carried there by guards. She put an invisibility spell on her, checked her wards, and for guards outside. One man. Illera opened the door and muttered, "Slytha." He crumpled to the ground. She slipped inside Murtagh's room, and undid the spell. She walked towards the bed anxiously. Illera shuddered at the sight of the brand. _I've been gone for far too long..._

"Waise Heill!" she murmured. He shuddered and twitched open an eye.

"Illera?!" he rasped incredulously. "Must be dreaming…"

Illera's heart ached. "Murtagh, I'm here."

He tried to sit up, but cringed.

"Don't move, I'm not done healing." She finished her healing in about ten minutes, and imbued him with her energy. _Amira, help me with this spell please!_ She added Amira's energy. She stopped, and shook him gently awake.

He sat up. "Illera, how… are you here?! You have to leave!"

She sat down next to him. "I scryed you, and saw…this." Her hand traced the brand. "I flew here. Amira I expect is with Thorn."

"You flew here, just to heal me? With these risks?!"

"Murtagh, I can take care of myself. Galbatorix is drunk; I felt his conscience drinking his heart out. And…it was worth the flight. To see you."

Murtagh hugged her, breathing in her scent. "I've missed you…"

She smiled sadly. "You have no idea." She checked the time; a few hours to midnight. "I can stay a bit. I'm going to be in Ellesmera for training for awhile. You won't be able to scry me."

He didn't reply, just kissed her hard. _Mmm…_ He felt similar emotions coming from Thorn. _Thorn?!__** Amira is beautiful…**_Murtagh laughed inwardly and broke the kiss.

"Our dragons….did you know about them?"

She laughed. "No, but I suspected something."

She leaned in for another kiss, and he tugged gently on her shirt, a question in his eyes. She shook her head.

"As much as I'd love to…I don't think I have that much time."

He nodded, understanding. "Is there anything you need to tell me? Before we….stop talking?"

A smile tugged at her lips. "Mmm, I don't think so."

"Good."

He ran his hand down her body. _God she is so perfect. _Illera ran her hands down his bare chest and he groaned.

"Illera…"

"Ok, I'll stop."

"No, don't. But…it's only eight."

"Yes, but I'll be so exhausted I won't be able to fly back."

"Fine…but then that means I can torture you."

"Mhm…try."

With an evil glint in his eye, he asked, "Are you sure?"

She snorted. "You look really sinister when you do that…"

"I take that as a yes."

He caressed her, kissed her, and pulled her to him.

"Murtagh…"

He found a sensitive spot on her neck, and sucked on her skin.

"AH! Murtagh!" he smiled. "You know what…forget what I said."

Afterward, she murmured, "I love you," with a strange look in her eyes.

"I love you too."

She glanced back one more time, and said a final goodbye. Jumping onto Amira's back, her hair flying behind her in the wind, tears streamed down her face. They flew in silence for the two hours, each struggling the way they had come, but lost in their own thoughts. Illera's tears dried and she made sure no one could tell she had been crying. Amira flew into her room, exhausted. It was late, 11:40. She stripped of her clothes, bathed and changed into a soft fabric. She flopped onto her bed and fell asleep.

**Spottedstar1106: haha thanks!**

**Elfy14: Lol. Thanks**

**EragonPeep: **

**Wise Pallas Athena: Yes, it's a mix of the un-released book and Eldest, sorry for any confusion**

**My-Lover-Gren-Gren: wow…you and EragonPeep are….insane…in a good way!**


	11. Heartbreak

**Thanks to all my reviewers!!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Fanfiction--- A New Hope**

**Chapter Eleven----Heartbreak**

* * *

Ellesmera was filling up, as contestants for the Forging of the Blades, as it was called, entered the city and prepared. Every elf in the land had heard of the Forging, many were coming to see the fine works, others to see the Riders, and many simply just to be in the heart of the elven land.

Illera, Eragon and Ryan were at the sparring fields, Eragon and Illera sparring together and Ryan learning from an elf named Vanir. Eragon was using a borrowed blade, Illera using Freedom. Her face was twisted in concentration. She had sparred with Murtagh many times, winning only the last. Eragon's fighting style was quite different than Murtagh's, though he was still formidable. Thrust, parry, swipe, block. Sweat dripped in beads off their bodies, as they fought for advantage.

Without warning, Eragon crumpled to the ground with a cry. Illera winced. _Must be his scar…_

The elves watching began muttering amongst themselves. She stood sword point down. Illera sheathed Freedom, and said, "I claim no victory."

She murmured a few words in the Ancient Language, and Eragon was floated down the path to where Oromis lived.

Illera set him down on the sand, and called, "Ebrithil?"

"Yes?"

"Something is wrong with Shadeslayer."

Oromis hurried out of his hut and peered at Eragon. "Tell me what happened."

"We were sparring, and after a little bit, he collapsed."

Oromis peeled Eragon's shirt of, and flipped him over. A long, ropy scar seemed to glow with energy.

"It must be this…"

They head footsteps, though very light, and Arya appeared.

"I saw your spar, Illera. Have you found what is wrong with him yet?"

The elf was calm and collected, unless Illera was dreaming that bit of worry in the air?

"Yes, the scar that Durza inflicted on him."

Arya turned to Oromis. "Is there a cure? We need all of our Riders to defeat the Black King."

Oromis shook his head. "I do not know."

* * *

Arya had been watching the two Riders spar, marveling at how even they, with human capabilities, seemed to fight like elves. Illera fought, differently, even more unique than the elves' did. Eragon's technique was, slightly familiar, yet different. She had seen Eragon collapse, had heard Illera say it was not a victory, and had seen her float Eragon somewhere. She had followed them, wanting to know, _needing_ to know if he was ok. Despite her excuses, she felt more than a little something for the Blue Rider. He had led such a difficult life paved with hardships, losing his family, Brom, and brother. She could relate, her father died a couple years after she was born, her lover, Faolin, died trying to save her, and her mother had banished her. The only really good thing, she felt, was when Islanzadi welcomed her back. Arya sighed inwardly, and left the three Riders to think.

* * *

Illera sat on the roof, reflecting on memories, the times when she was with Murtagh, when she was so carefree. And now…she was here in Ellesmera. Everyone treated her with a wary respect, everyone except for Orik, Eragon, Ryan and Arya. _Was it really worth it?_ _Was it worth leaving Murtagh for this?_ There was no training today; Oromis had declared the day off, as Eragon needed to be attended to. She sighed. _I want to talk to Murtagh…_ Yesterday had been a day of passion, not about the cruel reality that kept them apart. They were on opposite sides of the war, it could not be denied. The war, the Empire versus the Varden, rebellion against "civility", Red against Blue. Illera desperately wanted the war to end, if only to continue with her elongated life.

She heard the strong wing beats of a dragon, and looked up. It was Eragon, looking tired and grim but healthy. He jumped off Saphira and sat beside Illera.

"I claim no victory eh?"

She let out a small laugh tiredly.

"It's all about your image here, Eragon. No one trusts me, really. I don't blame them, in their eyes I could be the Empire's agent."

His eyes narrowed. "Well, there is the matter of where you went last night."

She looked up, shocked. "What?"

"Where did you go last night?"  
Illera sighed, her eyes turning sad. "I went to take care of a personal matter."

Eragon didn't say anything, but sat down next to her. After a few moments of silence, Illera broke it.

"You love her don't you?"

"I-What? Love who?"

"Arya."

He averted his eyes. "Of course not."

"Eragon, you can't lie to me. I can…perceive things most accurately."

He sighed. "It is not wise, I should not love her."

Illera nodded. "The funny thing is most of us love someone we should not."

Eragon flicked his eyes to hers. "You speak as if from personal experience."

Her eyes grew hard. "Eragon, my sorrows are my own. I believe, here, in the land of the elves, that is their protocol."

He took the hint and didn't say anything.

"So, what do you think Rhunon's response to the Forging was?"

"Well, she is the best, and she knows it. She loves working at the forge, so I would think she regrets having taken her vow now."

"Yes, to miss the opportunity to forge three of the most extraordinary swords she has ever encountered, again."

"Indeed."

"When do you think the Forging shall begin?"

"Mmm, possibly in a week or so."

It was getting close to noon, so they left the roof and entered their separate rooms to eat.

Illera sat on her bed and thought about last night. It had been exhilarating to see Murtagh again, but she wished so badly that they could be together openly, and forever. Shaking those depressing thoughts away, she bit into a pastry. She finished the pastry and slipped outside. Hearing voices, she stepped behind a tree only to see Eragon and Arya walk by.

"Arya, I would follow you to the ends of the earth. I would build a palace for you with my bare hands. I would kill anyone for your safety. I would--"

Arya cut him off. "Eragon, we cannot be. I am a one-hundred and seventeen year-old elf.

You are a sixteen year old human. We could not be."

_Arya, what are you doing!?_

"You could give me your memories."

Even to Illera, Eragon sounded desperate. She saw Arya shake her head.

"That would be an abomination. If you continue to chase after me, our friendship will not last." With that, Arya disappeared into the shadows and Eragon slumped to the ground.

Illera's heart went out to him, and she stepped out from behind the tree.

"You saw?" Eragon asked quietly.

Unable to reply, she nodded.

He buried his face in his hands and rocked gently back and forth. Illera sat next to him for an hour or so, silently trying to comfort him but he told her to leave. She sprinted through the forest looking for Arya and tell her what she had done to Eragon.

_What?! She's disappeared! Amira?__** Yes little one? Do you want me to try and find Arya?**__ Yes please. _ Amira searched, flying everywhere, and even enlisted the help of Spitfire and Ryan, all to no avail. Arya had disappeared.

* * *

Arya sat on a tree, at the very edge of Ellesmera, her wards on full strength. It had hurt her so badly, to break Eragon, when all she wanted to do was kiss him, hug him, and be by his side. She could not. Between the differences of their races, and the clashing obligations of their duties, it was impossible. Now, the only thing she could do now was stand and watch helplessly as he tried to mend his broken heart and find another love as she hurt inside. When she had rebuffed him, even as gently as she could, it had hurt worse than losing Faolin. Then she had run, not bothering to see his reaction.

* * *

Eragon was next to the tree, slumped to the ground. _I didn't think that rejection would hurt this much, ever.__** Oh little one. You knew she wouldn't or couldn't accept you. Even if she did love you, she would do the best for the Elven Nation, that is, to sacrifice her own happiness. Such is the fate of Ellesmera's rulers.**_  
Eragon didn't reply; he got up and stumbled to his room, where he proceeded to drown his sorrows.

* * *

Illera wearily trod back to her room. She had searched everywhere, **[A/N, but not the trees xD** and Arya hadn't appeared. A sloshing sound was heard coming form Eragon's room. Frowning, she opened the door and smelled alcohol. Illera saw Eragon sitting at a table with bottles of faelnirv and ale around him. _God, why do al men love alcohol!?!?! _ She personally found stronger versions of ale distasteful. Illera scooted over to Eragon's side. He slurred drunkenly.

"Pwurdy…" and fell on his face.

Illera sighed. _Men…_

Using the same spell she had when he had collapsed, she lifted him up and floated him onto his bed. _You're going to have a massive headache tomorrow…_ She cleaned up the bottles and retreated into her own room. Illera sat on her bed, contemplating the evens of the day. And fell asleep.

* * *

**Sorry for the bit of wait, but I'm heading back to the States soon, and my aunts are in a frenzy. --". The chapters are probably going to get a bit longer, and I have a new fic [though no one have reviewed hint hint. Oh yeah, do you guys think I should write every day of training? Or skip to the Forging and Agaeti Blodthren[again, sp. Anyways..remember to R&R!!!**

**Elfy14: Lol thanks!**

**SpottedStar106: Eh….not sure if they will see each other so soon, but definitely again!**

**Wise Pallas Athena: hehe. Let's depend on Illera's desperation to get to Murtagh for the quick flight. **

**Vincent Nuramashi: Updated!**

**EragonPeep: Yeah, but lets just say Illera was desperate to get to Murtagh. And there's a clock whenever Illera checks the time, she hates wearing watches. (Like me! Haha)**


	12. I'm Confused

**Thank you all my reviewers!! This is probably the last update before I get back to the US, I'll try to write a couple chapters on the 16 hour plane ride [yes, 16 hours, feel my pain. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize**

**Fanfic—A New Hope**

**Chapter 12---I'm Confused.**

* * *

Illera slipped into Eragon's room to check up on him and his good friend the hangover. She shook him awake, and he groaned.

"Sorry for interrupting but--" Eragon cut her off.

"SHUSH!"

"Ah…."

Illera muttered a quick spell to release headaches, tweaked for hangovers.

Eragon sat up, and groggily asked, "What happened?"

With an amused twinkle in her eye, Illera answered, "You got drunk."

"…Oh."

"Yeah. Now we have to get to Oromis in….twenty minutes."

"Alright."

Illera left the room and called for Amira to meet her after she talked to Arya.

She reached Arya's room, and knocked. The elf opened the door, and Illera went in.

"Arya when do you think the Forging will begin?"

"We have one or two more contestants we are waiting for; the latest we shall begin is in five days."

"Oh alright. Thank you."

Illera left, and found Amira waiting for her in a courtyard. She climbed up and they winged over to Oromis' hut, where he was meditating.

"Ebrithil," she said, and bowed.

"Where are Eragon and Ryan?"

"They should be coming very soon."

Almost as soon as she was finished talking, Saphira, Eragon, Ryan and Spitfire glided over the treetops and landed near Amira.

"Ebrithil," Eragon murmured, and Ryan followed suit.

"Today you will be meditating, broaden your minds; feel the life of the forest. After you feel you have absorbed all the knowledge you can, come to me. Ryan, I will teach you how. Illera, Eragon, go over there, near the stream."

They walk over, and sat across from the stream, and felt the minds, the feelings of the animals and plants.

Illera concentrated on the wolf that was watching them warily. She entered its mind, and felt what its instinct told it to do; run. The wolf bounded away, and Illera was forced to return to her mind.

She found a peregrine falcon and its nest; she felt its proud demeanor and her mothering instinct. The falcon took off, and Illera flew with her, in her mind. When Illera discovered the bird was going to dig for worms, she returned into her own body.

This continued in similar fashion for quite awhile, until Eragon touched her mind and told her to go with him to meet Oromis. Illera stood up and stretched, and followed Eragon back to the hut.

* * *

Ryan desperately tried to follow Oromis' commands. _Broaden your mind…ok, I can do that. _An amused chuckle rang through his head. _**No you can't. This is how you do it. **_Spitfire widened his mind, and Ryan sensed how he did it, and saw, no, felt, the life of Du Weldenvarden. Absorbed in his new findings, he didn't look up when Illera and Eragon arrived, and reached into a squirrel's mind instead.

* * *

Oromis sat, and beckoned for them to also sit.

"You are aware of the Forging of the Blades, are you not?"

They both nodded, wondering what was going to happen next.

"It will begin tomorrow. You, as Riders, must be there. The judges, since Islanzadi has decided there will be three judges, are, Arya, myself, and Rhunon. Arya, as the normal elf, myself, as the Rider who would decide if the sword was fit, and Rhunon, as a maker, would easily see the flaws. There are one hundred contestants, a rather small number. You will be required to meet them, and be present at the beginning of the Ceremony. Ryan already knows this, I have told him. Do you understand?"

They both nodded, and Oromis called for Ryan to come and join them in doing the Rimgar. Illera sighed. _This is going to be a long day._

* * *

Illera fell face down onto her bed and groaned. _Ugh. Stupid exercises, dance of snake and crane…_ She mentally cursed who ever had created it. Slowly getting up, she winced. _I already knew I'm not that flexible! _Amira chuckled. _**Little one, the point was for Oromis to know your limits, in order to test you. **__Thanks. __**At your service. **_

Illera showered and changed her clothes, into clothes that the elves had made for her, savoring the downy texture and sat back down on the bed. Someone knocked, and she said, "Come in."

Eragon entered and sat next to Illera. They sat in silence for awhile. _I wonder why he came…_

"Illera, have you scryed the other two Riders lately? The…_Dark_ Riders?"

Illera boiled inside, but didn't show it. _Murtagh isn't dark! He's---__**Yes, Yes, but don't let Eragon get suspicious. **__Fine._

"No, why?"

"So we can see what they are doing."

"Oh. Well I have a bowl of water….somewhere. Here, let me find it."

Eragon laughed slightly. "Ok."

She spied the bowl, and beckoned Eragon to come over.

"Draumr kopa," Illera muttered, concentrating on Galbatorix.

The image in the water wavered, and Galbatorix appeared. And what was he doing? His favorite hobby. Torturing Murtagh. Illera tried not to show how much she was affected; a shudder ran through her body. _Dammit! I hope Eragon didn't see…._

* * *

Eragon focused on the image in front of him, and almost didn't notice Illera shudder. _Well Murtagh was probably her friend, so it would affect her to see it…_ _Or was it something else?_ Before he could probe that thought any further, Illera broke the image.

A questioning glance was shot in her direction, but he didn't pry.

"That's disgusting," Illera muttered.

"Was Murtagh your friend?"

Illera looked slightly startled. "I guess you could call it that."

He nodded. "Ok. Well I should get going, and Oromis wants us to spar tomorrow at six, so we should get some sleep."

"Kay. And you're borrowing Vanir's sword again?"

"Yes."

She nodded, and he left and sat on his bed. "_I guess you could call it that…"__Did she really get to know him? We don't know how long she trained with him, but he did say she completed her training…_

**---------------Flashback------------------**

_Eragon flew out to meet his brother, sword in hand. But he was already tired, and Murtagh was fresh. _

"_Eragon listen to me. The Purple Rider is fleeing from the King. I helped her escape. She has two letters in her possession, one addressed to Nasuada and one for you. She has completed her training under me, and can fight excellently."_

"_I do not have much time. Galbatorix has ordered me to try and capture you. I have tried. He will be in a terrible mood when he finds one of his Riders have disappeared and the last egg gone. Her dragon is female; she will explain everything. For now, brother, I must go." With that, Murtagh sheathed his sword, mounted Thorn and flew off._

**--------------End Flashback-----------**

Eragon shook his head frustrated. They were both so complicated, Murtagh and Illera. Similar in that aspect, maybe they liked to confuse him. He sighed. _Whatever, I'll figure it out another day._ He leaned back, and fell asleep.

* * *

**Yes I know its kind of short, but it's needed. Next chapter will be longer I promise! **

**Oh yeah, I have about five silent reviewers. And anyways…I got five reviews last chapter. While I'm grateful for those few, what happened to the [oh wait…**_**Six**_** reviews I got for chapter nine? Okie. How about…I get nine reviews for this chapter, and I post the next? Thanks!**

**Babylol09: THANK YOU! **

**Spottedstar106: Lol! I agree. **

**Vincent Nuramashi: This fic is kind of a mix of the two books, the Burning plains had already happened, but they go for training… kind of confusing really, sorry about that. Eragon and Arya should get together…oh…before/after the next battle. **

**Elfy14: Lol thanks! I'm not a super huge fan of Arya, but I think she's the only one who's good with Eragon**.

**Princess-enigma: Yup, a happy ending for all. :D **


	13. Rhunon's Regret

I love my reviewers…did I mention that? Yay 8 reviews! Yes, yes, I wanted nine but eight's good enough for me.

Haha I updated today so it'll compete with your readings of the last HP book. Hah, as if I could ever be compared to J. K. Rowling.

I was reading through the first chappies, and I realized that it moved a bit too fast in Uru'baen… Oh well.

Anyways…The next chapter!!

**Oh yeah Congrats to Sparkfiction for being the 50****th**** reviewer[only making a big deal cuz its FIFTY. Lol.**

* * *

Illera woke up groggily. _Ughm… __**Oh dear, what did you drink? You have a massive headache…possible hangover. **_Blood pounded in Illera's head. _Yeah…__**Well hurry up and cure it! The Forging is today!! **__Ah right. _

Illera mumbled a few words in the Ancient Language and instantly felt better. _Let's see, what to wear…hm maybe the purple tunic with the elven-style leggings and boots…my back-up outfit. _

Sliding into her clothes, she left her room and opened Ryan's door quietly. Illera slipped into the room and murmured, "Adurna!" Ice cold water poured onto Ryan from an invisible bucket. He jumped and cursed.

"Illera!!"

She grinned playfully.

"What was that for!?"

"To wake you up of course."

"Humph." Grumbling good-naturedly, he went into his closet and dressed. When he came out, Illera was leaning against the door frame watching him.

"So now we're going to the Forging?" Ryan asked.

"After I wake up Eragon." She had a playfully evil smile on her face.

"I don't envy him."

She laughed softly and left the room. Creaking Eragon's door open, she muttered, "Adurna!"

A stream of water landed on the unsuspecting, dreaming Blue Rider as he jerked awake and spluttered.

"Wha--You—Illera!! Ryan!!"

Ryan pointed a finger at Illera frantically.

"Illera!!"

"Yes?"

"What was that for?!"

She rolled her eyes. "You men are all the same aren't you. Ryan asked the same thing when I woke him up."

"Oh. Well at last let me get dressed!"

"Yes, yes. Oh, and we're flying to the Hall, I believe the dragons need to be present as well."

Eragon nodded and Illera walked out.

_Amira, I need you to get Spitfire and fly here. __**Of course. **_ A few minutes later, Spitfire and Amira winged down, and landed. The two Riders scrambled onto their dragons and flew the short distance to Tialdarí Hall.

When they landed, they found Arya, Orik, the judges, and the Queen already there, as well as the hundred contestants and everyone else who had come to watch. The three dragons, Glaedr included, sat on their haunches next to the judges and surveyed the crowd.

Before long, Eragon and Saphira appeared and landed. Eragon took his place next to Illera and the ceremony began.

"Ladies and gentlemen, elves of the realm, we are here today to find a solution to our bladeless Riders. For us to overcome the Black King, we need our Riders to be armed and strong. The Judges, Smith Rhunon, Rider Oromis and Princess Arya shall judge each blade based on the durability, sharpness, color, and flexibility. And now, you shall meet the contestants!" Islanzadi announced.

The elves gathered in a line, smiled at the crowd, shook the Judges' and Riders' hands. Soon, Illera grew impatient. _Argh… Can't they get on with it already?! _Amira chuckled. _**Apparently not. **_

Finally, the last elf had smiled, waved and shaken their hands. Islanzadi smiled and held her hand up for silence.

"All of these contestants have a fair chance in netting the honor of creating these three Riders' swords. These papers," she waved her hand and a sheet of parchment appeared in every smith's hands, "Tell you what is needed, the very basics. The rest is up to you.

Now, Rhunon tells me that a Riders' sword takes many months to make, although these are not the real copies. You have two weeks to produce the finest sword you can, without making it a Rider's blade. You must also make a sheath of the same color. When the time is up, you shall take your piece and come here, and lay them out. The guidelines are, 1. Color. The Color must be vibrant and jewel-toned. The color for this practice sword will be a blood red. 2. The sharpness. The blade must be honed to perfection, it should be able to cut anything with ease. 3. The flexibility. The flexibility must be superb, it should be able to flex nearly in half without breaking. 4. The durability. The judges shall perform spells on the swords to mimic years of use. It should not be damaged. And now, I leave you to your forges!" Islanzadi dismissed them and the elves streamed out the doors, eager to get a head start on their projects. The elven audience murmured excitedly and tore after them.

As soon as Illera got out of the room, she climbed onto Amira. _Do you want to go flying?__** Yes. Let's go. **_ Amira took off and quickly reached into the sky, their own carefree oasis.

* * *

Eragon frowned slightly, leaning into Saphira's side. _Solembum's prophecy, it doesn't make any sense! I think I should tell someone...Illera? Yes that's good. __**Yes, Illera is the best choice apart from Arya. And little one, while you're at it, ask Illera is she is involved with anyone. If she is, that is another weapon to destroy the Varden. **__Okay._

Breaking the connection, he went to ask Ryan where she was; they were obviously good friends. He knocked on the Green Rider's doorway, and leaned, arms crossed, against the frame.

"Yes?"

"Hi. Do you know where Illera is?"

Ryan shrugged. "She went flying, but other than that, I don't know where she is. She always tended to be…mysterious."

"I see. Well thanks anyways."

"No problem."

He sighed inwardly as he left. _Why are women so difficult to keep track of?! _Saphira chuckled. _**Yes, but I know where Amira, and therefore Illera are. They're by the lake near the river. **__Thanks Saphira,_ Eragon said gratefully. _**Your welcome little one. Do you want me to fly you there? **__Yes thanks. __**Wait in your room. **_

A few minutes later, Saphira emerged and Eragon jumped onto her back, flying off towards the lake. Landing, Saphira let Eragon off and left to hunt. Eragon grimaced, wondering how to approach Illera while simultaneously picking his way through roots and leaves.

He found her sitting by the lake, leaning against Amira and staring off into the distance. Eragon walked over and sat by her side. There was a silence. Finally, she broke it.

"Yeah?"

"Well, Illera there's something really important I have to tell you. Remember when I told you about Teirm?"

She nodded. "Yes..."

"Well this is about something the werecat Solembum told me. A prophecy."

He explained to her from the weapon under the Menoa tree, to speaking his true name to open the Vault of Souls. When he finished, there was another silence. She was no doubt struggling to take it in.

He asked tentatively, "What do you think?"

She answered slowly. "I think…these few years with you will be interesting indeed."

"Yes. Why are you here anyways?"

"…To get away from it all, the people who are in awe of you, the people who fear you, and study you day after day. I almost wish for the days when I was in Uru'baen. Galbatorix is insane, but he treated us, well, no, me, well. Probably because Murtagh had defied him so many times. The way he treated Murtagh was nothing compared to this."

Eragon nodded slowly. "I see. I guess I am used to it, I don't sense that."

Illera turned her head to look at him straight on. "They don't do it to you. You've killed the shade Durza, you have pledged yourself to Nasuada; you have already proven your loyalty. There is no way for me to prove mine, although the elves, dwarves and Varden are simply waiting for me to prove myself."

_Damn she is perceptive. No wonder she survived Uru'baen. __**Be glad she is on our side. **__Or is she?_

"What about that night you were gone?"_ You heard her say Uru'baen was better than this, and she was gone that one night. _Exasperation seeped across their link. _**She was saying the king wasn't as paranoid as the elves; he has no reason to be. As for that night…I sense she is not working for Galbatorix. **__I trust you. _

Illera's eyes grew annoyed. "I already told you it was nothing."

"Okay…"

She threw a cold look at him and he flinched. "So even you don't trust me?"

"No, that's not—" He was cut off as Illera angrily strode over to Amira and winged off.

_What did I say? _Saphira sighed. _**Little one…**__What? __**You implied she was a liar and a spy. No wonder she was angry. **_

Eragon threw his hands up. "Women!" _**Goodness, you aren't very well versed in women. **__Not like I had practice! _With a growl of exasperation, the blue dragon severed the link.

Eragon wondered, _what did I say?_

* * *

Illera left Ellesmera. She flew to a small lake Amira had told her about, intending to forget everything and concentrate on…Murtagh. Jumping off the purple dragon, she stumbled over the pebbles and sat at the edge of the lake. Illera murmured, "Draumr kopa!" and the clear water flickered into an image of the Red Rider. He was in his room, peering at a bowl of water.

Illera frowned slightly, and leaned in closer. _What is he looking—WHAT?! Amira, how is he…? __**I don't know little one. Perhaps the power of his love for you, combined with however Galbatorix gets his power. **_Illera immediately felt better. _At least I'll always have Amira and Murtagh, if no one else. _Adding the needed word for sound, she spoke.

"Murtagh…Can you hear me?" She could see the shocked look in his eyes.

He spoke to the bowl, "But how..?"

Illera smiled crookedly. "Well, I don't know. I just scryed you, and you were scrying me. So essentially, we can talk and see each other."

The shocked look melted off Murtagh's face, to be replaced with understanding. "I see."

Illera didn't feel as angry anymore.

"Well, Illera, as I can talk to you now, I have to tell you something. Galbatorix is planning a really large-scale battle. It'll be ready in a year. Your training with the elves, how much more time..?"

"Not a lot, I have almost completed my training. I think you'd be happy to hear the teacher was shocked at how I already knew everything." Illera said with a wry smile.

Murtagh smiled slightly. "Good. But now, I must be more careful. Galbatorix is…angry. He paces around as tense as a coiled spring. He—"

"Tortures you more?"

"…Yes. How do you know?"

She looked sad for a minute. "I scryed you, though I couldn't risk going again. Eragon caught me the first time."

Murtagh nodded in understanding.

"Murtagh, I just wish the war could end! I hate this, sneaking around, finding magical ways to talk to each other!"

Murtagh's eyes darkened. "I know. I just want to be with you, and be there for you so we can get rid of this evil." His eyes turned sad.

Illera didn't try and reply; she knew if she tried the tears pressing at the back of her eyes would spill out. Suddenly, there were footsteps pattering towards Murtagh's room. His face turned alarmed, though he tried not to show it.

"I'm sorry Illera, I must go."

"That's ok. It's not your fault."

He remained seated, his eyes locked onto hers.

She forced herself to tear her eyes away, and said, "Go! You're going to get caught!"

He ripped his eyes from her image and hoarsely said goodbye. Just as the image was disappearing, Illera whispered, "Goodbye...Murtagh."

* * *

Ryan sat by Oromis, reading scrolls of the Ancient Language. Oromis had been infinitely patient with his inability, but he had learned a lot in a short space of time, and had started using the simplest spells, while Spitfire flew with Glaedr and either Saphira or Amira daily. The two senior Riders' training was already almost complete, and Ryan knew that everyone was waiting on him, so they had a larger chance of overcoming the bastard king. Just then, Oromis interrupted his thoughts to teach him another spell. Sighing, Ryan focused on it and left his troubled thoughts behind.

* * *

Eragon sat on a tree branch outside his window, meditating. _Mmmm…….._

* * *

Rhunon stood at her forge, contemplating the Forging, and what had happened over a hundred years ago. _I swore that oath not to make any more weapons of destruction because of the chaos he wrecked with my blade, Morzan, Galbatorix, and the rest of the Forsworn. Damn them to Hell. And yet….I cannot stand an amateur creating THREE Riders' swords… That cannot happen. I will not allow it. The new Riders' need to have the best, and those so called smiths are not. I am. _

Rhunon sighed heavily, knowing what she must do.

"I am sorry Thor, for creating your death. I never thought they would kill you, and with my blade nonetheless. But I hope you understand, why I must do this," she whispered.

**And with tears in her eyes, Rhunon broke her oath.**

* * *

**Galbatorix123: Yup, I'll finish this fic one way or another, I've gotten pretty far already**.

**SparkFiction: Lol!! Thanks! Don't worry, its summer so updates will be faster!**

**Wise Pallas Athena: No problem for not reviewing, you were on VACATION. But lol, updates coming as fast as I can!**

**Babylol09: Hm…possibly. But it's going to happen after everything, and there are a few surprises in store after they think all they're troubles are over. **

**SpottedStar106: Yeah lol. But him being clueless is funny. **

**My Lover Gren Gren: Dang, I'm scared. Lol, just kidding. Trying to update as fast as I can!**

**Elfy14: Lol. For some reason it wasn't as bad as usual, maybe cuz I was writing almost constantly. D. **

**EragonPeep: Lol! 40 reviews?? If only everyone were like you! And unfortunately I don't read Star Wars fics, I've never even seen a whole movie. Yes, I'm that far behind. Lol.**


	14. Hm

Thanks to all my reviewers!!

Wow..I got five reviews last chapter. Maybe some people haven't finished reading _Deathly Hallows?  
_

* * *

The clang of the hammer on the practice sword rang throughout the forge; Rhunon's home for hundreds of years. She shook with worry, what the elves would think of her,now that she broke her oathand anticipation, for she could forgethree new Riders' swords!The happiness that enveloped her whenever she worked at her forge threatened to consume her now. _ Ah, let's see…I shall need…an emerald, a sapphire, and an amethyst. They can come later, however, though I should begin looking now. Ah, and three sheaths, I will need the finest leather imported especially for making sheaths… _

The blade was coming along nicely, as sharp as Rhunon could make it, thin, and flexible. Now, she dyed it. The dyeing of swords needed to be before it cooled, when it did, the color grew richer. _I have been working on this sword for all the night without rest. It will be done by tomorrow, then I shall work on the sheath. _The color of this sword was a deep blood red, though the color pulled roots in ruby. She lost herself in her work, the pleasure she had been denying herself for a century, and had brought back so recently.

* * *

Illera walked, not having a particular destination in the forest. She closed her eyes for a minute, and remembered Murtagh's face, his dark hair, his body he held with ease, and his caramel brown eyes. The way his eyes shone when he laughed, glinted when he was angry, and had a faraway look when he loved. _**Stop it! You're doing it again! **__I can't help but relive what probably are the best memories of my life, especially once my family was killed. Mother, Father and poor, innocent William. He was so young, eleven years old when it happened, and I was only two years older. None of it should have happened, the soldiers, the cursed fire, everything._Amira's voice gentled. _**I know that little one, yet you must not dwell on the past, you should look forward to the good times ahead. **__What good times? You mean this dark and bitter war? A power struggle between the Empire and the Varden, in which Eragon, I, or Murtagh could destroy with a single whim?_

Illera's voice was bitter and Amira chose her words carefully. _**Little one, I know what you mourn for, and it is something no one should lose, especially one with your past. But now you have the chance to make everyone's life a bit better, so why would you not? **_Illera didn't respond, instead severing the connection and strode through the forest.

A clanging coming from behind several huts alerted her. _What can that be…Though it sounds like a hammer..._ Moving between the trees, Illera crept closer and close to the odd noise and saw an elf bent over a forge. _Oh, well that's natural, there are so many elves in the Forging, I expect I should get used to the sound… _The elf turned, and Illera glimpsed her face. "

"Rhunon!?"

* * *

Eragon flew on Saphira, above the treetop, savoring the feel of the wind on his face. Though Solembum's prophecy still troubled him, he had decided not to dwell on it at the present. Reaching out with his mind to sense all the beings that were in Ellesmera, he drifted back in time, back when he had been a simple farm boy, unknown his father was one of the terrible Forsworn, and who wouldn't dream he would kill the shade Durza. And now, he was bonded with a dragon, in love with an elf, a brother to dwarves, and in the Elven city of Ellesmera. Life couldn't get any better unless Galbatorix dropped dead of his own accord.

* * *

Rhunon flinched as the incredulous voice of the Oriental Rider floated through the forge.

_Dammit!_

"Yes?" she asked, trying to sound sure of herself.

Illera raised an eyebrow; she hadn't missed the insecurity behind the grim smile.

"I thought you had an oath?"

"I would rather break my oath and see the blasted king dead than having not broken my oath and had an amateur create three Riders' blades, the secrets of which they could only dream about!"

A smile, or part of one, flickered across the Rider's lips. "I see."

"Rider, I would not have this known."

"Agreed. This secret shall be kept, and unveiled in three fortnight's time."

"Yes. And Argetlam, what design would you like on your sword? I shall ask the other two Riders after the first sword."

Illera was startled, though still kept calm. "The hilt, a dragon design, though I will give you the design myself. And an amethyst, as well."

Rhunon nodded. "Your sword must also be given a name."

Something changed in the Rider's expression. "Aie, or in other words, Love." **[A/N, Aie pronounced Aye.**

Rhunon exhaled slowly, wishing she knew exactly what was going through the Rider's mind. "A powerful name, Argetlam. Powerful, indeed."

Illera acknowledged this, and turned to go.

* * *

Back in Uru'baen, Galbatorix stretched luxuriously on his bed. _The Purple Rider did not just dissapear; they were powerful enough to survive. They must've fled to the Varden…But, she swore the oath, the same that Mur---ah. I see. She did not say it in the same sentence. How careless of me to not notice. No matter, at the next battle, of which the planning should be done in a few months, Murtagh shall re-capture her and or Eragon. Maybe even the green egg, after he sedates the two Riders. Possibly. I never had the feeling Murtagh could coerce Illera into working for me…Well, since Illera is a woman…it must have been easy for him to convince her, Murtagh is after all, not unskilled in the art of wooing…and women are weak, forever believing in the concept of love. _

_Shruikan! _The dragon didn't respond. _SHRUIKAN! __**……yes..? **__Tell me about the purple dragon, how Amira compares to Thorn, what are her abilities. __**I won't tell you. **__WHAT? YOU WILL. __**No. **_Galbatorix spoke through their link,_ Jierda! _ Instantly, pain shot through Shruikan. _**ARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!! Fine, I'll tell you. Her speed rivals my own, she is an extraordinary flyer. She could fly for hours, her stamina is good. In all, she is very accomplished. **_Galbatorix shoved Shruikan out of his mind and returned to his thoughts. _Hm. That is all very well.__They should be present at the next battle, with my magicians and Murtagh. Yes, and if it goes according to plan…_ Feeling pleased with himself he sat down and called for Murtagh.

* * *

_God, what does he want now?_

Murtagh walked as slowly as he could towards Galbatorix's quarters.

_**He shouldn't need you for anything…unless it's about Project Recapture.**_

_I don't want to capture any of the Riders, I sent Illera away myself! And none of them should need to go through what I did, especially… __**Especially? **__Illera. If Galbatorix found out about us, then he could force me to do whatever he wanted, and to do it right, or she would be tortured. __**Galbatorix doesn't suspect anything yet. Let's try and conceal it.**__ Ok. _

Knocking on the door to Galbatorix's suite, Murtagh wondered if it had anything to do with the other Riders.

"Come in."

Murtagh walked in and leaned against the wall. "You called?"

It had become painfully obvious to whom the people's allegiance was directed; the Red Rider. He had his own guards, the Sun Rays guards, in red while the King's soldiers, the Storm Clouds were clad in black. And while all guards who were members of the two sets, Murtagh had trained two or so magicians who trained the rest of the guard in magic, while Galbatorix didn't care about their skill, just so long he had guards. The Sun Rays were infinitely more relaxed and happy, and they enjoyed far more recruitment numbers than the Storm Clouds. And Galbatorix knew. The king pretended to be all powerful and to not fear Murtagh; the torturing was to reassure him [Galbatorix that he was still the strongest.

The King sat on a miniature throne-like chair, though far less decorated.

"We are waiting for Baen; he needs to report on the Black Hand. Baen will be present at Site Recapture as well, so do not try anything."

Murtagh nodded, and reflected on Baen. The King's second-in-command after Durza had been killed, Baen was just as, if not more, formidable as the Shade had been. He would do anything to please the King, and ruthlessness came easily to him.

A knock on the door interrupted him.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Good, come in Baen."

A man who was neither burly nor slim entered, with eyes like a hawk that searched the room.

"Yes, my lord?"

"What are the new reports on the Black Hand?"

"The new recruits are coming nicely, we have more information on the Varden and the enemy Rider, and the battle plans."

"Ah good. Tell me about…"

Murtagh tuned him out. _I wonder what we'll have to do… __**Hopefully we can pretend to follow orders again; I know we both have no wish to capture the other Riders. **__It's not just that Thorn. I keep thinking about…you know. __**You don't have to be so depressed about her, she can take care of herself. And it's not like I'm sulking over the fact I cannot have Amira next to me day after day. It's better this way. **__…I know that Thorn. But I can't help wishing she was here, she always made everything, even the blackest thing feel…better. _Thorn didn't say anything to that; he knew exactly how his Rider felt.

* * *

Amira flew above the green trees, with Saphira ahead. _I know I'm trailing, but… _She had seen herself how much anguish and pain her Rider was in; the fight this morning had only proved it. Illera had snapped at her because she wasn't sure of this, and hearing her dragon talk like that only made her more insecure. Amira sighed inwardly. _ I know the pain she's going through, and yet…She needs help, though the way I approach the subject…no. I would find another of her kind, they would be better at that then me. Hm, I would ask Eragon or Ryan, but they would not understand; they are men. But the only woman she is trusted, however faintly…is Arya. Although the elf already has enough on her mind, I don't wish to trouble her more. What am I going to do?_

* * *

Saphira frowned mentally. The purple dragon seemed…distracted and distant. She didn't seem to be…happy. _Well no one can be happy in this time, but we are content, and she doesn't appear to be. I wonder whether her Rider is... Illera is very different, and I wonder what her past must be to have caused her to become like this. _Saphira sighed. _ I do wish our new hope could be less complicated._

* * *

Ryan sought out Oromis, to figure out the remainder of his training. However, Oromis instructed him to spar with the elves, until he could almost create a draw. _It's hopeless Spitfire! In a spar, I'll never be able to come to a draw with the __elves__**Don't be so sure, you probably will be able to soon. Remember, you're a Rider; you have me. **__Yes, but I feel so helpless right now. If there was a battle right now, Illera or Eragon would have to protect me; the King would probably have orders to capture me first. __**Yes, that doesn't matter. You will be as strong as either one of them once we finish our training. **__Ok._

* * *

Arya walked through Du WeldenVarden, her home since long ago. The elves on the paths bowed to her, and murmured the elven greetings, to which she was forced to reply in kind. She inhaled the scent of the flowers and forest air. _This is my home. It will always be, until I die. The place that has survived so much, the Fall, the first Dragon war, and the war now. Ellesmera will never change._

* * *

Illera reached her room, and took out a piece of parchment and quill. _What do I want my sword to look like…_She drew the hilt, and encrusted an amethyst in the center. **[A/N, on the paper!! **Around the gem she drew the dragon that her father had once drawn for her, one with no wings, and four feet. _The head is slightly similar to Amira's, though the body is entirely different. I wonder how this dragon could fly with out wings, my father never told me._  
Illera drew the rest of the sword, just to make it complete, and on the gem she wrote the scratches that made up the word _Aie_. _And the sheath…_ She drew it, a simple sheath, though in the center of it she wrote the character for Aie. _ So that's all…__I think I'll eat…then go talk to…Arya? I don't know… oh well. I'll wait.  
_

* * *

That's the end of another chapter! Wow, I think i went through every major character's point of view..haha.

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**


	15. Heh?

**Thanks for all my reviewers!! –does happy dance-**

**Oh and does anyone have any ideas…For what Ryan and Spitfire could make for the Agaeti Blodhren? I kind of have an idea, but an open to suggestions Thanks!!**

* * *

_Amira? __**Yes little one? **__Don't you ever miss Thorn? __**…I miss him, but I know if I put all my efforts into the days ahead that will bring me closer to the day I can see him again. **_After a pause Illera spoke. _I guess that is true, but I can't help relive some memories, to remind me what I'm working towards. __**I know little one. That will help you in these years with out them. **__Mhm. _

Illera stretched out on her bed. _So I fell asleep? __**Yes. I think you should take your sword design to Rhunon. **__Yes. The Judging for the swords are in a few days, she had better get ready. __**Indeed. **_

Illera scanned over her design critically. _I think this will do…What do you think Amira? __**Very nice little one. **__Thank you. _

She left her room and knocked on Eragon's door.

He sleepily opened it and asked her, "Yes? Illera?"

"Yes. Eragon, I have a question to ask you. What would you name your sword?"

"Why do you ask?"

"So you can be prepared?"

"I see…I would name my blade Ilian, Happiness."

"Ah."

"What would you name your sword?"

"Aie."

"That is fitting…fitting for a Rider's blade."

"I guess. Well…that's all really."

"Ok. I'll see you later, at Oromis' hut."

"Ok."

She turned around and knocked on Ryan's door.

He answered slightly distractedly, "Come in!"

She pushed the door open and leaned on the frame and watched him.

He looked up. "Oh, Illera. Yeah?"

"I was wondering Ryan…what would you name your sword?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just wondering."

"Well…Gulai, luck. Luck has been an important factor in my life."

"I see…"

"Yes. Well if that's all…?"

"Yeah. No, wait. How would you like a spar?"

He looked startled. "Yes, sure. I'll borrow someone's, I'll meet you down there in about…10 minutes?"

"Yes ok."

_I'm so weird…_Illera thought as she left his room and took Freedom. _I wonder how talented he is…Amira I'm going to be sparring, call if you need me.__** Okay.**_

She walked down to the sparring fields, twirling Freedom absently. The fields were surprisingly occupied; almost fifty elves filled the arenas, blades flashing.

Ryan was there, talking to an elf near the weapon store. **[A/N, not the kind of store where you buy things :P **She waited, her eyes fixed on him.

He took a sword and approached her.

"Well?" he asked.

"Let's go," she responded.

"What about blocking the edges?"

"Ah, right." She moved her hand along the edge of Freedom and murmured a few words and told Ryan to copy them.

"Done now?" she asked.

"Mhm."

"Good."

Suddenly she struck, flicking her wrist and nearly sent the borrowed sword spinning away. Ryan sidestepped quickly to avoid the dark blade crashing into him. Illera twisted Freedom and disarmed him, but before she could flick the blade up to his neck, he dove after his sword. _Ooh, I see how it is…_ She grinned and he retrieved his sword, leaning backwards to avoid her blade. He struck and she parried easily, blocking his every strike. By now, many of the elves had gathered to watch the two Riders. _I tire of this game…_ Illera feinted at his legs and when he flipped his sword down to block it, she twisted the flat of her blade and his sword clattered to the ground. Before he could retrieve it again, she flicked the point up to his throat and murmured, "Dead."

He looked up at her smiling faintly. "That was easy to you right?"

"Yeah. I've trained with so many people."

He stood up. "I hate public humiliation," and smiled.

They left the fields.

"Haha. Get better then. Or you probably will be killed." Illera smirked.

"Hey! I'll have you know I beat Vanir yesterday! You're just too good."

"Which is how _I_ will survive."

He shrugged. "Find as many people as you can who can beat an elf."

"You used trickery."

"Eh….well I'll survive as well!"

Illera snorted.

Ryan retaliated, saying, "Well if you beat me and I beat Vanir, then you must have beaten an elf before right?"

"……..I've never sparred with one Ryan."

"You should. It's such a challenge."

"Fine. I will when we get our swords."

"Ok."

They walked to Oromis' hut and sat on the rocks around it. Pretty soon, Eragon arrived.

Oromis came out of his hut and spoke.

"You three would not know…but an Elven ceremony will be performed soon. It is the most important of our celebrations and takes place once every century. We, as Riders, are obviously needed to be there, or risk offending high society. But there is a catch. We must present to the elves one thing we have made, the dragons also will have needed to make one. One thing, an offering if you will, that is unique to you."

The three Rider's nodded, indicating they were already thinking of what to do.

"You are dismissed. Remember to make the objects unique!"

The Riders hurried to their rooms.

Illera took out a quill and parchment. _Something no one else would know about…_

_Maybe about Uru'baen? About what I went through there? __**Be careful little one, if you are not something about you and Murtagh may slip…**__Yes, I know. I'll only do it about the Black King, not much is known about him, and why I so desire to serve the Varden._

_Heal the wounded, the blood spattered across the floor,_

_Ordered to heal none other than my enemy right now,_

_The Black King's way of keeping the slight obedience_

_To make certain his unwilling vassal will serve him._

_He returns to his Hall to drink and dance and revel in his luxury,_

_Not wasting a single thought on what he had just done,_

_Or how to defeat his foe,_

_Blinded by his will to live in power,_

_He wastes no thought on the rebellion,_

_Across the land as Galbatorix feasts,_

_The Varden grow stronger,_

_We can still hope to defeat him._

**[A/N, only a small part, its way longer**

She recited the whole poem in her head. _Amira…? What do you think? __**It shows… you have grown much, summarizing such a terrible thing so well. This will work two ways, it shows why you wish to overthrow the Black King and whose side you are truly on, as well as being a gift to for the Blood-Oath Ceremony. **__Indeed. What do you wish to create?_

_**I have an idea…**__What is it? __**What do all magic users who are not Rider's miss out on? **__Being bonded of course, the special training, the flight, and extended lives. __**But elves have extended lives. **__Well then the training, the bond, and flying. __**Exactly. Mine shall be the sensation of flight...captured in a stone. **__Ah…do not make it in a stone. Did Saphira not make Brom's tomb diamond? You may have that ability as well…try placing it in that._

_**Thank you little one. **__What should I do now? __**Maybe you can find Arya…you have not spoken to her for awhile. **__Yes. Tialdarí Hall right? __**Yes. **__Ok. I'll talk to you later. _

She left her room and entered Tialdarí Hall. After asking an elf[who turned out to be Vanir Illera turned into the passage where Arya lived.

"Ok, so the third to last room…"

She stopped in from of a cherry wood door and knocked.

Arya's cool voice was heard. "Come in."

Illera opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Illera. Why have you come?"

"Arya…don't think I've forgotten what you did to Eragon. I _know_ you love him, so why did you reject him?"

Her eyes remained emotionless. "Illera, you do not know what you're talking about. Even if I do love him, the pairing is forbidden."

Illera's gaze hardened. "Unfortunately…You don't know anything about _forbidden_."

Arya's eyes narrowed, wondering what the younger woman was thinking.

"In fact, I do. The one hundred and seventy year old Elven Princess and Ambassador with the fifteen year old Leader of the Dragon Riders? Especially now? In this time of war?" And if Galbatorix found out, then he would try to capture me to use against Eragon.  
"Perhaps not now. But do not break him! You know full well you love him, if you refuse him now you will never be able to love him; he will have moved on."

Arya let out a breath she had been holding. "Illera, I know that. And yet now, I cannot accept him."

"He would understand if you tell him."

"You seem certain."

"Have you bothered to get to know him?"

"Of course! And I watch him everyday whenever I can, although he doesn't know!"

"And if you do, then you would know he would understand and wait until this war is over!"

Arya struggled to remain calm and not dissolve in a weeping mess.

She felt the tension around the Rider soften, and she didn't speak.

"I hope I've given you enough to think about for now." Illera spoke softly and left.

Illera strode through the passageway frowning. _Arya must be hurting from rejecting Eragon, though I understand it could not be helped. Though I might have been a little bit kinder…_

Vanir appeared out of nowhere and bowed, murmuring, "Argetlam."

She rolled her eyes. "Really Vanir, you don't have to say that every time I see you."

The elf had a slight smile on his lips. "I should, or risk dishonoring myself and the Elven customs."

"And you wouldn't want that would you?" she teased him gently.

"Of course not," his smile grew slightly.

Eragon appeared and stopped. "Hello Vanir, Illera."

Slight bits of color appeared on the elf's face, though it was barely noticeable.

"Argetlam. Oh, I must go now. Good day Riders."

With a slight last look at both of them, Vanir started towards the sparring fields.

Eragon smirked. "Well…looks like someone has a crush…"

Illera was startled. "What?"

"I mean, it looks like Vanir likes you."

"…I didn't notice."

"Of course you wouldn't."

Illera didn't reply.

Eragon asked suddenly, "Would you accept him, if you could?"

"What!? No, I wouldn't."

"Why?"

"Eragon…"

"Private reasons hm? That's fine."

"I'll leave now."

Eragon grinned and said, "Ok. I'll see you later."

She walked back to the tree house disoriented. _**Little one…**__Yeah? __**Are you ok? I know that talk kind of shocked you. **__Shocked is an understatement. I don't think Vanir is attracted to me though, he was just being nice. __**You think so? **__Yes. _

Snickering filled her mind. _What?!_ _**Nothing… **__Whatever._

Illera sat on her bed and looked out the window. _Life can't be more complicated than it is now…can it?_

* * *

**Sorry I've been a bit slow on updating, my mom took my laptop. That's the reason it's a couple days late. Yes, blame my mom. Haha. But...I'll be in a better mood if you guys REVIEW!!! Just a hint. .  
**

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	16. The Forging

**Thank you all my reviewers! But…T.T only six reviews. Better than none I suppose. Anyways, school started so updates will be slower. Just a heads up.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

* * *

Arya leaned against the tree, her mind filled with what Illera had said before.

_You don't know anything about forbidden…he will have moved on…he would understand…_

Arya sighed. _What was she thinking about?! 'You don't know anything about forbidden…' Is it possible…No. Illera would not have come otherwise. Yes. _

She sighed again. _Eragon loves me. I love him. Illera is playing matchmaker. What am I going to do?_

Leaving her place next to the tree, she resignedly walked back to her room, intent on leaving a very uncomfortable topic. Unfortunately for her, Eragon appeared out of nowhere.

"Arya Svit-kona," he addressed her.

"Shadeslayer," her heart lifted slightly.

"May I ask you to spar with me?"

"Of course. Although this time I assume you believe you will win?"

A corner of his mouth twitched up. "I don't like to be presumptuous."

She smiled inwardly. _He's great to be around._

"Alright. I will get my sword, and meet you at the sparring fields."

"As you wish."

She hid a grin as he started towards the sparring fields. _Damn…Though it may not be so deeply forbidden. _

Arya retrieved her sword, appropriately named Mor'ranr, Peace.

_I wonder…what is he thinking? The Judging for the blades will be held later…some time around…midnight. That was always a ceremonial time, midnight._

She entered the sparring fields to find Eragon waiting for her.

He blocked his sword and she did the same.

"Are you ready?" he asked,watching her.

"Always," she replied.

She sliced at him, and he dodged it. _Hm. Getting better…I expect his spars with Vanir helped him. Though I wonder…if the Riders sparred together who would win. _He cut his borrowed sword at her and she blocked it with the edge of Mor'ranr. She flicked Mor'ranr to his arm but he deflected it easily. Arya frowned. _Odd…he seems to be…toying with me. _

Many of the occupants were watching, including Vanir and Rhunon. Soon, Ryan and Illera arrived.

Eragon smiled softly. _I get it. She's trying to hit the hole in my defense. Which would be…nothing really. _

--

Illera watched the Rider and the Princess sparr, each never wavering. _Though time will make them fall…wow. They are extremely skilled…I wouldn't want to be their enemy. _A twinge cut through her._ But Murtagh is...I won't hurt him, unless it's absolutely necessary. I'll have to pretend to be giving my all though. _She sighed inwardly. _Ack. I didn't know acting would be so hard. _

She continued watching the duel, and noticed a subtle, subtle change in power. Eragon's blows became heavier and even more precise, while Arya was struggling to stand her ground. _Hm. Maybe…just maybe she will lose. If Eragon plays his cards carefully enough he just might. _

Arya slid in the mud and Eragon swung his sword to her neck so quickly it was a blur.

_If my eyes do not deceive me…Arya is smiling. That's a first…an elf smiling. _

The elves nearby cheered, and Eragon helped Arya up. Illera hid a grin, _you can just see the electricity between them, it's amusing how they try and deny it. __**Very amusing hm? It is similar to how you and Murtagh denied your feelings for each other,**_Amira teased. _Well…um…I have no comment. _The female dragon's amusement rang through her head.

Ryan said in a low voice, "I wish they'd get on with it already. It's obvious they're in love."

Illera smirked. _Yes, very obvious if you've noticed by now. _"Yes."

Ryan grinned cunningly. "Aha. I have an idea…"

"Which is…?"

"Let me talk to Eragon first."

"Ok.."

He sauntered over to where Eragon was talking to Arya, and chatted with him for a bit.

Silent dragon laughter sounded through the air. _Amira…why are you and Saphira…laughing…??_

Ryan grinned and ushered Vanir into the group. _Dear God. Do I want to know?_Amira chuckled. _**Yes…and no. **__That makes me want to know. __**Exactly. **_

Vanir had splotches of color on his cheeks, and Eragon laughed. Illera sighed. _Crap. Well…I'll ask Eragon. _

She reached her mind out and touched Eragon's and he let her in. **[A/N, Ok, Illera is the regular italics, Eragon the bolded italics.**

_Eragon! What are you guys planning?_

_**Come over here. **_

_I don't think I should._

_**C'mon. Please?**_

…_Fine._

Illera withdrew from the contact and went over to see what the fuss was all about.

"Illera!" Ryan said, a grin on his face.

"Somehow I don't think this will be good," Illera commented dryly.

"Nonsense. It will be interesting!" Arya added in, smiling.

Eragon smirked.

Taking in all the smiles and grins, Illera almost stepped back. _Shit, they're happy-cheery today. _

"Eragon, I don't like the look on your face," she said, and Vanir turned the slightest shade of red.

"Ok. Well, you might like this. We wish to see you spar."

"With whom?"

"VANIR has agreed," Ryan added devilishly.

_What!?! ERAGON, RYAN I WILL KILL YOU!! __**See what I mean by amusing?**__ Evil, evil dragons. And yet I cannot back down…curse you. _

"Agreed. And what blade shall I use…?"

Arya drew her sword and handed it to her, hilt first. "Mine."

Surprise flickered in Illera's eyes, but she took it. _Wow. I guess she does consider us friends.__** Apparently, as swordsmen elves don't offer their blades lightly.**_ _Yes._

"Thank you," Illera said, scrutinizing the elf's face.

She looked up and caught Rhunon's eyes with hers. A half-smile slid on her lips, and Rhunon mouthed something like, 'Your swords will be ready soon'. Illera nodded to her and blocked Mor'ranr. Vanir did the same and faced her.

"Ready?" he asked, his eyes glancing over her.

"Yes," she replied, and swiped Mor'ranr a couple times experimentally.

"Then we begin."

Illera sighed mentally as Vanir leapt towards her and struck towards her left shoulder. Twisting away, she deflected it with the flat of Mor'ranr, and sliced at his arm. He parried it and rained a series of blows down on her, and she was forced to back away. Fifteen minutes passed.

_Ryan was right, sparring with an elf is very different…and very challenging. Hm. Let's see…So he doesn't favor any sides but I didn't think elves would have that obvious a weakness. He likes to jump and strike, I guess it adds more force to the blow. Ah. When he leaps I can strike…I guess._

She furrowed her brow. _This will be interesting._

Illera sensed him holding back a little, no doubt because he thought she wasn't completely on the spar.

She narrowed her eyes. "Give me your all."

Vanir's eyes widened.

He frowned slightly and jabbed at her side, and she ducked. He leapt and she saw her chance. Illera swung the flat of Mor'ranr against his blade and twisted it hard. His sword fell to the ground, and as he was diving to retrieve it she brought her sword up to his chest and said, "Dead."

Sweat dripped off both of them and Illera held her hand out to help him up. Vanir stood up and unblocking his sword, turned to Illera.

"Who did you learn from Illera-elda?"

She smiled. "From the best. Elda does not seem to describe me very well Vanir-vodhr."

"And if elda does not describe you, vodhr does not suit me."

A small smirk slid onto his lips and they walked over to the others.

Eragon glanced at Arya and Ryan with an odd expression on his face. _I never could have beat Vanir on my first try…And didn't Ryan say she'd never sparred with an elf before?__** You forget her past, and your own. She obviously was raised to defend herself, and you were not. **__Yes…but still…I wonder who her parents were. __**I don't believe she could do these things; becoming a Rider, coming to Ellesmera, with a family. She doesn't seem like she has one. **__Like myself. __**Yes.**_

Illera muttered a line in the Ancient Language and the sweat that dripped off of her and Vanir disappeared. _Ah. That's better._ _**You did well little one. **__Thank you. _

She unblocked Mor'ranr's edge and gave the sword back to Arya.

"Thank you," Illera said with a smile.

Arya nodded, with a satisfied smile, she left.

Eragon looked after her, his expression something like a lost dog's.

Illera caught Ryan's eye, grinned and left with Amira flying towards their quarters.

--

Illera sighed wearily and surveyed her closet. _Ugh. Sometimes, Amira, I wish I was a dragon. Just go and no one abuses you for your lack of dressing up. _Amira snickered. _**Maybe in another lifetime. **__Bleh. __**But maybe that dark navy tunic over there, the one that the elves gave you. **__Yes, it'll show them I appreciate it AND I'll have something to wear. How would I get along without you Amira? __**Quite well I suppose, having survived seventeen long years without me. **__Haha. _

She pulled it on and studied her reflection critically. _Eh…alright for tonight. I guess. __**You're too hard on yourself. I think you look great. **__Thanks. I'm going down to Arya's room…Are you going with Saphira and Spitfire? __**Yes, I'll see you later. **__Okay. _

Illera exited and knocked on Eragon's room.

"Come in," she heard.

Upon entering, she sat down on his bed and watched him pull on a deep green colored piece of clothing that the elves had given him.

"You ready?" he asked warmly.

"Yeah. So we have to go together?"

"We don't _have_ to, but the only other person I _could_ go with is Arya…"

"Ah. And I could also go with Ryan or Vanir…though…I do not wish to."

"Then we go purely as friends?"

"Yes."

Eragon nodded and led her to Tialdarí Hall.

When they got there, all the nobles were there and waiting. Illera sat down next to Eragon in the many chairs that were set up. Islanzadi was talking to Arya and Oromis hurriedly, anxiously waiting for Rhunon. Illera studied the smiths who were bustling about readying their pieces. _Heh. If Rhunon is not able to compete…one of them might win. __**They don't look to friendly…**__I guess. But then they don't look like anything…Elves don't show emotion. __**Hm.**_

Ryan soon popped up and sat down on Eragon's other side. As the last elves trickled in quickly, the queen stood up and clapped her hands. Immediately, everything went silent.

"As you all know, today is dedicated to creating the necessary weapons for our bladeless Riders. We shall begin with the many, many elves who have worked so hard these last three weeks to prepare a sword."

They started with an elf named Lidea, and progressed further. There were only four that Oromis deemed appropriate for Rider work, and seven that Rhunon thought was their best work. Illera sighed. _This is going to be a long night._

She was right. It was well towards five in the morning when the last person was finished judging. And Rhunon still hadn't revealed her secret.

Islanzadi stood up.

"Now that we have finished our Judging-" and was cut off. Rhunon stood up and bowed.

"If I may…?"

Brow furrowed, Islanzadi nodded.

Rhunon stepped forward into the center of the room, and drew the sword.

* * *

**Hehe kind of cliffy! I know that you know that I know what you already know-What's going to happen next. Haha that was confusing. **

**R&R!!!!!!**

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**Sparkfiction: Lol yeah. Love triangles are freaky, but nothing can be hidden forever hm? But I agree it'd be really funny.**

**CrystalDragonRider: Did you review last time I updated? If you did, sorry I missed you! But thanks!!**

**Pickle99me: You pronounce Illera like 'E-Leer-ah'. Kind of weird, but I forgot what I had down before. Sorry it's kind of confusing, I'll try to fix that. Yes, Vanir likes Illera, and thanks! Haha, yeah guys are weird. And welcome to Fanfic!**

**EragonPeep: Lol. Thanks!**

**My-Lover-Gren-Gren: Lol. I'll try and update as fast as I can, but school has started …T.T**

**Dragon Rider Murtagh: Thanks! I don't know when Murtagh will be back….later…after they finish their training I guess. In a couple chapters. **

**Wise Pallas Athena: Lol. Yes, the chapter titles are going to be very strange, sometimes I don't think of one and when I'm beginning to submit it I remember, 'oh crap! What's the title!?' And thanks!**


	17. After

**Thanks for the reviews! But I have about 16-17 readers…and 7 reviewers. Right now as you are reading this fic, please review…**

**I want to get at least 12 [which shouldn't be hard since I got 8 the most ever, and I have about 6-7 silent readers. If I get 12 or more…I'll post the next chapter. Thanks. **

**I have the next chapter written, and I'll post when I get 12 reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

**And thanks to Sparkfiction and Arya 4 ever, who made my day with two great reviews! **

_Rhunon couldn't have picked a more dramatic way to show the elves she has broken her oath_, Amira commented dryly. Illera smiled slightly. The dragon was beginning to take on a sense of humor that was filled with sarcasm.

Rhunon spoke in a voice that carried.

"I know all of you wonder why I have chosen to break my oath. There is one single reason. The Black King must be overthrown, and our tools, _our__Riders,_ need to have the right tools for the job. They need to be able to destroy the Rider who destroyed us, they need their training and the proper weapons for it. And only I know the secrets for the Riders' blades. Only I could create the weapon to destroy Galbatorix. Realizing this, I set about creating a sword. Now, this sword," she displayed it proudly, "is just a lesser copy then what I would create for our Riders. For the finished work, Oromis-elda has it right here."

Looking slightly punch-drunk, the Rider elf drew his sword for all to see. Illera didn't turn her head to look; she had held Zar'roc so many times. _**I hope Rhunon is accepted, **_Amira said worriedly. _**I wouldn't want her to be shunned. **_Illera snorted. _She doesn't need anyone. __**True. **_Illera barely noticed the elves turmoil and shock, instead choosing to talk to Amira. _For beings who rarely show emotion, they aren't acting the part. __**But an elf who has broken her oath…For good reason though. **__I'm going to go soon, it's almost over anyways. Will you come with me? __**Yes. **__Thanks. _

--

Vanir studied Illera's expression, which didn't show much. _Personally…I feel she should have been an elf. She acts like one, and the etiquette of the elves don't seem new to her. And if she was an elf…it would make things so much easier. _

He noticed Illera staring at the blood red sword Rhunon had created. _I still can't believe it. The smith broke her oath! But I suppose I could understand; all for the greater good. Ah…Illera is so beautiful…_ He sighed quietly. _Why couldn't she be an elf? It would be so much easier…But she'd still probably be a Rider…Though it wouldn't matter so. _He laughed bitterly to himself. _Who would think…the son of Lord Dathedr wants the one he cannot have. _He sighed again. _Why does Eragon accompany her?! And why must this be so hard?_

--

Oromis and Arya declared Rhunon the winner, and therefore the smith for the Riders' swords. Rhunon had smiled, bowed and departed. Then the rest of the audience had trickled out, pausing only to watch the four Riders fly off. _**Yes, and being a celebrity is irritating at times**_Saphira complained after hearing Eragon recount the night. He laughed. _It was always going to be this way. __**Maybe, but I still dislike it. **__Of course. _

Saphira flew into the tree and Eragon jumped off. Despite the night's events, he wasn't tired at all. Eragon sat on his bed wondering what to do. _Saphira, I'm going to go talk to Illera ok? __**Mhm fine. **_Eragon closed the door to his room and knocked on the door next to his. Illera opened the door, her face amused.

"Hey. Come in," she said, stepping back to let him through. _Hm. Ryan's here._

"So what were you two doing?" Eragon asked, seating himself in a chair.

Ryan shrugged. "Eh, just talking."

"Oh."

Illera smirked slightly.

Eragon noticed and said, "Oh dear."

--

_Hah. He's worried,_ Ryan said in her mind. Illera kept her smirk plastered on her face and said, _he should be. Though it's good luck I'm a good actress. __Yes._

Eragon cautiously said, "Is there a reason why your smirking Illera?" The smirk left her face, but the sparkle of mischief remained in her eyes.

"No. No reason at all," she said lightly.

"If you say so…" he trailed off doubtfully. Then he changed the subject. "So Illera, what about Vanir?"

Ryan's brows furrowed. "What about him?" the Green Rider asked.

A teasing light sparked in Eragon's eye, and Illera looked slightly annoyed.

"He is, ah, attracted to Illera," Eragon said delicately. _Damn you Eragon,_ Illera thought without conviction.

Ryan's response was typical. He yelped in surprise and fell out of his chair.

"ILLERA! Why didn't you tell me!?" he asked.

She sighed and shot an dark glance at Eragon. "It doesn't matter. I won't be returning his affection anyways."

"Oh. But still! You should've told me!!"

"Whatever Ryan. It's something that couldn't be, even if I returned his affection."

"So you DON'T like, feel attracted to him?" Eragon asked.

"Nope. And never will," Illera muttered.

Ryan didn't say anything and turned to Eragon. "Oh. So…is there anything new?"

Eragon shrugged, eyes narrowed at Ryan's lack of interest in the Vanir-Illera thing.

She suddenly asked, "Hey Ryan, when do you complete your training?"

"Eh…Ebrithil said after the Agaeti Blodthren some time. He also mentioned another event…though I don't know what that would be."

"It does seem there are MANY events here…" Eragon muttered.

Ryan laughed slightly. Illera watched them and Amira let out a chuckle that everyone heard. _What is it?_ Ryan asked. _**You humans are amusing,**_ was the only reply.

Eragon frowned, Illera sighed. _So it seems. _

"What do we do now Eragon?" Ryan asked.

Eragon still had a look on his face, but it disappeared. "For the Varden? We first must wait until you finish your training, and for this 'last event' to pass. Then, we will fight. And endure whatever Galbatorix has in store for us."

Illera felt a wave of shock, amusement and happiness flow through the air. _Amira?? What is it? _The dragon laughed throatily. _**Spitfire and Saphira**__. What?! _

Similar reactions were mirrored on Eragon and Ryan's faces. _**They are, to put it humanly, together. **__Ahh. Haha. That's great, especially since you have Thorn. __**Yes, only you and I must wait years to be reconciled with them, and Spitfire and Saphira will always be together. **__You won't have to be worried about Thorn loving another, you're the only single female dragon. Murtagh on the other hand…__**He wouldn't do that do you. **__I don't know. __**You have so little faith in him. **__ It's not that I have no faith in him. I have no faith in male hormones. And almost every woman wishes for Murtagh to be theirs, and for him to love him! Talk about a world of opportunities! And I mean in Uru'baen, in Surda and the Varden, it's always Eragon and Ryan. __**And now you. Vanir won't be the only one in this aspect. **__It's both. __**I guess. Just be careful little one. You know what I mean. **_She did indeed know what Amira meant.

While she was talking to Amira, Eragon and Ryan were talking to their respective dragons, so the room was silent. _Do you miss Thorn? __**…You perhaps miss Murtagh more than I would miss Thorn. Granted, I don't feel like I would part with him soon, if I wished to, but you miss Murtagh far more than I miss Thorn. And I understand why. **__Thank you. __**But I miss him more now that Saphira has Spitfire. **__Yes, I feel the same way. Eragon will continue to pursue Arya…hopefully with different results now. And I know Ryan will find another. Essentially….here I stand alone. If only I could have brought Murtagh with me. __**Little one, if you had done that, no one would trust you. Murtagh would still be bound to his oaths. Everything happens for a reason, so I believe. **__Perhaps._

Eragon grinned and casually addressed them.

--_Change to Eragon's point of view--_

"I suppose then, Ryan, we'll be close friends," he said grinning.

Ryan was still shocked, but turned to him. "Just hopefully nothing more!"

Illera laughed and Eragon managed a slightly embarrassed smile. _Her laugh is like Arya's, don't you think Saphira? It's almost intoxicating…but I don't love her. It's musical. __**Yes. I agree, Illera is like the elves in many ways. **__I suppose that's how she survived Galbatorix. __**Yes. **_

--_Back to Illera's point of view—_

_Haha. Let's see him avoid this question,_ Ryan said to Illera.

He asked Eragon, "So, I've talked to Arya."

Eragon suddenly seemed to snap to attention, but like he was struggling to pretend he didn't care.

"Oh. And? What did you she say?"

Ryan glanced at him oddly, and said, "We didn't speak of anything of importance really. You'd have to ask Illera what SHE was telling Arya. The Princess looked like she was going to do it."

"Do what?" Eragon asked sharply.

Illera smirked and then privately asked Amira if she could be the getaway dragon.

"Illera!!"

Amira took that as her cue and flew out of the massive window like arch and hovered below the balcony.

"Nothing," Illera grinned and raced to the balcony with Eragon right behind her.

She balanced herself on the rail, and Eragon gave her an incredulous look.

"I'll tell you when you truly need to hear it!" she called before leaping and landing on Amira's back before the dragon left the tree behind.

Amira landed on the Stone of Broken Egg's mountain, though far higher. _It has water here? _Illera asked, sliding off Amira. _**Yes, the pool over there. Rainwater slides downward from the peaks, and collect over there. **__Ok. Thanks. __**Mhm. Though I can see Thorn too right? **_Illera felt a wave of guilt, but suppressed it before it could seep across their link. She had completely forgotten if Amira would wish to see Thorn. _You idiot, _she scolded herself. _Of course she would want to…how many times have you scryed Murtagh?! _Turning back to Amira, she answered, _Yes. Of course. _

Illera bent down next to the small pool and murmured, "_Atra nosu waise vardo fra eld hornya._" **(A/N, that means "let us be warded from listeners")**

"Draumr Kopa," she said, her mind's eye fixed on Murtagh. The image shimmered and Murtagh appeared with Thorn. And Galbatorix, Shruikan and his counsel. _Shit. What now? _She made to release the magic, but Amira cried out, _**Wait! There might be something important! **__Right. We'll wait. __**They're planning for the attack…**_the purple dragon murmured.

Illera strained to hear what the King was saying.

"…All magicians are to work on capturing Shadeslayer, and the Oriental Rider. I have no doubt she will be there. You must also retrieve the green egg. Elves will also be there, and you are to capture at least one. Murtagh," he turned his dark eyes onto the Red Rider, "Will engage Shadeslayer in combat. I suppose…Shadeslayer will have improved some, though Murtagh will be more a match for him. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded and the Black King dismissed everyone except Murtagh and Baen.

"Murtagh, don't think to disobey me again. Baen will be watching."

Murtagh nodded and the King dismissed him.

He strode to his rooms quickly and sank down on his bed.

"In a few weeks," he murmured quietly. "Just a few weeks…I can see her again…"

Murtagh close his eyes. "I hope she's ready…Galbatorix won't allow me to do nothing but my very best this time…And I don't want to hurt her." He paused as if talking to Thorn. Illera's heart hurt for his predicament, and hurt because he couldn't be with her.

_Murtagh! _

He stood and walked over to a large basin filled with water.

"Draumr Kopa," he murmured quietly and Illera felt a ripple of power flow. _Amira, did you feel that? __**Yes. **__I wonder what it was? __**Probably him breaking through Ellesmera's defenses to scry you. **__Oh. Well I'll change the image to Thorn now. __**Thank you little one.**_

Illera concentrated on the red dragon and the image changed. Thorn appeared, flying with Shruikan. Amira pressed her snout to the surface of the water, though remaining careful not to break the image. The Rider felt her dragon's longing and regret through their link, before it was quickly suppressed.

Illera held the magic for many minutes longer until she felt another ripple, jarring her from her concentration. She jerked sharply and the image broke. _**Illera?!**_ Amira asked worriedly. _S-Sorry…I felt something…__**Felt what? **__I don't know…but it made me lose my concentration…Sorry. I'll pull the image back up if you want. __**No, it's fine. Now scry Murtagh, we have to know what he has for information. **__Ok.._

Illera transferred the energy back to the water, and Murtagh appeared again, staring into the basin. _**Yes, I thought so, he's scrying you. **__Yes. _

"Illera!"

"Murtagh! Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. Only, Galbatorix is planning on capturing you, Eragon and the green egg. Oh, and a couple of elves at it."

"Yes, I know. I saw."

"Ah. You know then. I can't hold back. And I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll be fine. I told you before…I'm not helpless."

"I know you're not helpless, but I don't want you in the battle anyways. It'd just be a relief for me."

"Well…you know I can't do that. The Varden expects me to fight, and I haven't shown that I'm 'loyal' yet."

"Yes…unfortunately. Just try and steer clear of me as much as possible. Wiol eka." **(A/N, that means 'for me')**

Illera didn't say anything, her troubled eyes the only thing he saw.

At last, she said, "I won't make any promises Murtagh. It's likely unavoidable. But…I'll do it. Wiol ono." **(A/N, 'for you') **

He nodded. Illera took in his features again and sorely wished those few weeks could come quickly.

"So how are the elves?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"They're…different, to say the least. It's impossible to guess what they truly want." _**And yet you know. You're almost one of them; you can answer what they throw at you and you say what they want to hear. **__Oh…__**Stop being modest, you know it. **__Haha. I guess._

Murtagh glanced at Amira and turned back to Illera. "What did Amira say?"

"That I say what they want to hear…I understand them almost perfectly, and stop being modest."

He laughed. "I understand why she said that."

"Haha. Very funny."

Murtagh just smiled. He glanced at the time quickly and he stiffened.

"I'm sorry Illera, I must go. I hopefully will see you…in a few weeks."

She nodded and said, "Goodbye."

He released the magic and she saw him dash out of the room before letting go.

--

"So Ryan, what are you making for the Agaeti Blodthren?" Eragon asked while flicking his gaze towards the balcony every so often.

"Er…well…I guess the only thing I could make is something of value to the elves, not in the skill, but of the hard work I put into it. So I'm making a shield for the Dröttningu House."

"Oh. That's a good idea. What about Spitfire?"

"Something to do with the words 'everlasting' and 'fire'."

"Oh. Whatever that is it should be interesting."

"Mhm."

"Hey do you know where Illera went?"

"No--"

Ryan was cut off as Amira swooped into the hold and Illera jumped off.

"So what'd I miss?"

* * *

**That's the end of another chapter! How'd I do? PLEASE R&R!!!**

**Review Responses[only three?!!?? COME ON GUYS! Maybe I'm being too nice!**

**Arya 4 ever: Haha, glad you liked it. Well your question is already answered in this chappie. **

**Sparkfiction: Hey! I've updated as you can see. Hopefully it answers some questions, and I do believe Murtagh will find out sooner or later. ;) not giving away anymore, sorry. How am I doing? I updated last time [chapter 16 on the first day of school for me. Haha. I've been trying to get more reviews, unfortunately only four. Anyways, keep your spirits up! I -might- update soon!**

**Elva is watching you.: Changed your username? I like it! Haha. I have no idea what Angel is, I randomly came up with the name Illera because I forgot what I had had down before. I'm trying to get most of my school work done, and I usually have enough time to write much of the next chapter, so updates may not be very affected, unless I'm working on my other story. **

**Wingedwithfireymania: Hey! Another new reader[I think I have no idea there was a word for love in the ancient language. So I made up my own. But since it will get confusing, I'll stick with Aie. **


	18. The Blood Oath Celebration

**Oh my god thanks for the reviews! I just reeeeallly need your feedback!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize**

**--**

The elves gathered around the Menoa tree until the stroke of midnight, when Islanzadi raised her bare left arm so that it pointed toward the new moon like a marble spear. A soft white glowing orb gathered itself above her palm from the light emitted by the lanterns that dotted the Menoa tree. Then Islanzadi walked along the root to the massive trunk and placed the orb in a hollow in the bark, where it remained, pulsing.

Illera stood next to the other dragons and Riders, impatience drumming through her blood. Rhunon had presented the three Riders with their magnificent blades that she had worked so hard on earlier that night, much to the applause of the audience. She fingered Aie's hilt slightly, loving the designs Rhunon had painstakingly engraved into it. Aie was the most beautifully crafted sword she had ever seen, more so by the fact it was her own. Identical to Naegling, Ilian, Gulai and Zar'roc, it was perfect. The balance was exact, the blade honed to perfection and dyed a deep purple, the exact color of Amira's scales. An amethyst sat in the center of the hilt, the character for Aie right beneath it, on the metal.

_How fitting…Zar'roc and Aie, Misery and Love. Ironic, don't you think Amira? __**Time may well tie them together. **__Indeed._

She turned to her right and saw Eragon and Ryan nervously fidgeting with their swords, Ilian and Gulai, a sapphire azure blue and a deep emerald. _Men._

The celebrating began. For three long days and nights, they celebrated the pact with the dragons and on the third day, had presented their gifts. Ryan had brought out a magnificent shield that was painted with silver and white, Dröttningu House's colors. The crowd oohed and aahed over it and Ryan was embarrassed to say the least. Then the three dragons flew off to take their items. Amira was back first. She laid a shimmering crystal dragon-egg shaped rock in the middle of the cleared space, and nudged it to Islanzadi. _Touch it,_ she broadcast. The Queen picked it up and gasped.

"How did you create this Sharpclaw?" she asked reverently.

_By the magic in my veins. If many elves cannot fathom or understand the depths of how important dragon's are, they may at least experience the joy of flight, something they would never know. _

Then Spitfire brought forth a branch which the tip of was on fire. _This is the fire that will last forever,_ he proclaimed in his deep rumbling voice.

Then the rest of the audience came and went, showing what they had created for the celebration. After that, the two elf maids with an intricate tattoo on their bodies danced. Faster and faster they went, until the dragon seemed to fly from their skin and land in front of the three young Riders. Illera felt something strong hit her mind and forced herself to relax, nothing would attack her here. She felt Eragon cry out and go rigid beside her, and Ryan stiffen. A pain was clawing at her mind, and it hurt. Suddenly, the pain fell away and it was as if her mind had found another area in which to expand. She saw and heard more clearly, and felt more refreshed; faster, and more agile. Illera hadn't heard anything though, and dragged Ryan upwards to carry Eragon over to somewhere else.

"Did you feel anything?" she asked, suddenly feeling tired.

"Yeah…I feel stronger…I could now more easily carry Eragon than I could have. What about-Oh my god!"

"What?" Illera asked concerned.

"Eragon," was the simple reply. She flicked her gaze over Eragon's face and did a double take.

"Well. It's obvious he's the one whose going to be most affected," was what she said after she'd recovered.

Ryan nodded blearily and she understood how he felt and why Eragon had lost consciousness. The pain had been excruciating, and felt like all your privacy had been clawed away.

Ryan and Illera made their way back to where the majority of the elves danced and sang.

After some hours, she noticed Eragon and Arya slip away. Only Arya returned. _I'll find him later…_ she decided and took a seat on the roots of the Menoa tree. Vanir joined her. _What now?_

"Argetlam," he greeted before sitting down next to her.

"Vanir-vodhr," she said back, cracking a tired smile.

"Wonderfully mad, no? All of our celebrations are. It takes some getting used to."

She smiled but didn't answer.

"How old are you Vanir?" Illera asked suddenly, her eyes on the singing and dancing elves.

Vanir shrugged. "I? I am perhaps the youngest of Ellesmera, but for the children," he said, "I am only ten and seven years younger than the Princess."

Illera did the math quickly. "A hundred?" she asked.

He nodded. "This is the first Agaeti Blodthren I have attended."

She nodded slowly. "I see."

They sat like that for a little while longer until the orb that hung above the tree disappeared into the roots. All of the elves had returned to under the Menoa tree and Illera stood and joined Amira. Vanir looked slightly annoyed at the abrupt departure and lack of etiquette but didn't say anything. Islanzadi called the end to the Agaeti Blodthren for the next hundred years, and the elves returned to their separate living spaces to sleep off the magic. Illera followed the path where Eragon had walked before, and found him kneeling next to Saphira, his eyes red with tears that fell softly onto moss, shining.

She approached him. "Eragon…what have you done?" she asked quietly. _Why must he always take things in his own hands, instead of letting others or even Fate play the cards out? _

"She will never love me…my path is darkened. I have driven her away yet again…If I cannot have her as my own, I surely could have had her as a friend. But no! I had to go, and-" he broke off, shuddered and swayed.

Illera leaped forward and caught him before he fell and supported him. _Damn! He's heavy! __**Though not heavier than Murtagh hm? **__Yeah…I guess. Murtagh's older though. _

He leaned on her all the way to the dragon hold. Though Saphira offered to take him, she declined and insisted that the dragons take their rest. Finally, she unceremoniously dumped Eragon on his bed and rubbed her sore shoulder. _Wow he looks so different. I don't think I or Ryan were as altered…I feel a bit stronger, faster. I do believe my senses were heightened as well, I smell those flowers all the way from here, though I wasn't changed to the extreme, like Eragon._

Illera slumped against the wall, thinking. She wasn't at her height of strength now, the Agaeti Blodthren had been draining and the gifts the dragons had given her didn't help. _But I need to talk to Arya. _She walked over to Eragon's desk and borrowed a piece of yellowed parchment and a goose feather quill. Writing as elegantly as she could at the moment, she wrote in the Ancient Language, _Accept him before it is too late. _Illera took a deep breath and drew on what was left of her power and made the paper as bright as the dragon's scales. Her magic dwindled away slowly until it was less than she was comfortable with.

She tiredly made her way to Arya's room and opened the door. No one was there. _Yet._ Illera dropped the piece of paper on the elf's desk and struggled to keep her eyes open as she drunkenly created a zigzag path as she stumbled up to her room. Taking uneven steps, she sank onto her bed and fell asleep.

--

"What!? Everyone?!" Ryan yelped.

Oromis rolled his eyes. "Yes. It is a great honor Ryan, to be included. The new Master of the Blade faces the most talented with the blade to reach the title. It would be a tournament, called the Blade of Glory." **(A/N, I so got that from the movie lol!) **Oromis continued, "It is a series of spars with everyone who is included, which is about two hundred participants. The winner receives a prize, crafted by the finest makers. Many will attend. Only one shall be victorious. This…contest if you will, marks the new Master of the Blade. It is held every fifty years. The Defender, Nedwen the Strong, is indeed strong. I believe he has held the title for over a century now, after overcoming Legas, the elf before. I wish for the three of you to place highly, and I have no doubt you will do so. Do you understand this?"

They murmured, "We understand Ebrithil."

Oromis stopped them from leaving. "Also, Riders, we have received intelligence the Empire's army is on the move from the barracks in Uru'baen. The Varden wait on the border between Surda and Farthen Dur. Elves are departing now to Varden troops. As soon as this tournament is over, you three are to take Arya as Elven Ambassador to the Headquarters. There, you will consult with Queen Islanzadi, King Orrin, and the yet unknown Dwarf King, as well as Nasuada and the Council for your war plan. Heed me well young Riders," he warned, "Ryan is unknown. Illera, I expect Galbatorix to have pinpointed her location by now and Eragon was the original Varden's Rider. Remember, you must not be captured. Then Galbatorix would bind you to his service, as he has done to Murtagh Morzanson."

The three of them nodded, showing their understanding and determination to destroy Galbatorix.

Oromis was satisfied. "And do not let a single elf be captured. If that ever happens, it bodes ill for all."

With that, he dismissed them.

--

Murtagh flew with Thorn to the lake, where he had picked up from Illera as the place to go when he needed to think. Or just be with his dragon. _A few weeks and I'll see her again…I wonder if she's changed? Or if the green egg has hatched? She and Eragon had better be ready. I can't do anything this time to show mercy. The army should reach the desert in two weeks. We'll join them as soon as they send word. __**I hope that our numbers will not overcome them too easily…hopefully two Riders can keep them at bay. **__More and more of the army aren't the army anymore. Most of the residents in the cities are moving into the Varden. Have you noticed? I saw around fifteen shops and homes abandoned, and the families gone. __**Yes, I've noticed. But the Empire has vastly different supplies, the armor, the uniform, the weapons. **__I'm sure Nasuada has cooked up a way to support the Varden. After all, when I was there, they were running low on funds already. __**Mhm. **_

They reached the lake and Murtagh scrambled down. As soon as he was off, Thorn dove under the water, his ruby scales glistening with water drops. Murtagh laughed. _It's amazing how carefree Thorn can be, even now.__**Yes, and you should lighten up too. She's not going to die, you know that. **__I guess. __**Now come on! Before we have to get back! **__Fine…_

They stayed for about an hour before flying back and attending a few last minute battle plans. When Murtagh was through all of it, he collapsed on his bed. _Damn that took way too long. Hopefully the Varden won't be stupid enough to fall for Galbatorix's trick. I should warn Illera…_

He stood up and reaching the basin, murmured, "Draumr Kopa." The image flickered and shimmered before showing her, asleep. The sight brought a smile to his face and he watched her breathe, her chest rising and falling. After a few minutes, he released the magic. _Maybe not now._

--

Arya sucked in a breath. _Illera! You-_ she was unable to finish the thought. _She's right. I just don't want to face it. Eragon…_she sighed. _Would he still accept me? But I cannot face him now, so soon. Perhaps after the battle with the Empire that is creeping up on us. Perhaps. But this is forbidden! I, as the elven heir and ambassador cannot- __That's what you said about Faolin, you rejected him at first, and then accepted him. It's too late now! Granted he WAS a Lord's sister's son. _Her conscience rebuffed her. Arya winced. _I made a mistake. _**(A/N, Conscience is underlined) **_Well you always make mistakes about men. Don't make the same mistake with Eragon. Unlike Faolin, he's alive. And many of the human females find him attractive. Not just you.__ I… _Her conscience was right. She played it safe far too often. _I'll…I'll find him soon. Soon. And then I'll tell him. _

--

Illera flew with Amira skimming above the low clouds and breathed in deeply. _Ellesmera is so calming. Here is where elves appreciate nature. __**I agree. Someday I hope we can bring Murtagh and Thorn. Someday. **__Hopefully that day will not be too many years__away. __**I have a feeling that it, like so many other wars, will not be too short. It will take at least…six years I believe. **__Mhm. Let's not dwell on that. It's…depressing. __**I understand little one. **__Thanks. _

Amira swooped lower so that they glided over the treetops; Illera reached out and touched the leafy trees. _I so wish to see Vroengard. Don't you? __**Yes. I wish to see where the Dragon Riders of old lived and sparred and taught, and upheld their laws. **__I wish…oddly, I wish to see where Murtagh was born. Where he was raised. Though…it-he must want it to be erased from his memory forever. I don't blame him. __**Indeed…Like I had lain in Vroengard's rubble for centuries. I hated it, and to think I didn't, couldn't see it while I was there. **__I understand…don't worry. We shall go one day. __**I hope so.**_

The dragon landed on a mountain and Illera jumped off, and leaned against Amira. _Perfect place for clearing your mind…and getting away from everything. __**Indeed. Since when did you take all this meditation stuff so seriously? **__Since I found out it could help me get Murtagh back. __**Haha. **_

Both Dragon and Rider fell silent and pondered what was yet to come.

--

Eragon slept on and tossed and turned, his face screwed up with nightmares. Saphira glanced at him worriedly. _Why did he have to confess to Arya? He knew it would cause him this…pain. I wonder if Ryan or Illera could help with this. He is altered so much…I hope he can deal with these new powers and cope with the Arya situation. _

Saphira sighed through her snout. _Humans…why must they be so impulsive? _

--

**Oh my god thanks for the reviewers!!! It really shows my story from a reader's point of view; really helpful. Thanks again!!!**

**Review Responses:**

**Arya 4 ever: Lol yeah Murtagh won't be happy. To say the least. But Vanir won't get hurt either, Illera's too nice for that xD. Haha, it almost is a date. A battlefield date but uhhhhh yeah…I'll probably update soon cause I have to be nice to my readers now! For now. –grins-**

**Remember the Darkness: You're in luck! My reader's decided to come back from the dead:-D **

**Anurell: Don't worry, I'll be updating soon in a 'sorry' moment for the Author's note. I must say…it worked well! –grins-**

**vampiresrule63543135167654: Thanks!! Glad you like it! Lol, banged your head on the keyboard. That's fun xD. **

**Vampire Helena: waiiiit, you're the former Dragon Rider Murtagh right? Cause Elva signed it Dragon Rider Murtagh…but awesome! More readers!**

**EragonPeep: Yay your back! Haha. Thanks! Lol, Spitfire and Saphira just happened, I couldn't leave poor Saphira without a mate. Glad you like the Illera/Vanir thing. Unfortunately for him, Illera has Murtagh. I dunno when he'll talk to her about it, haven't gotten quite that far. Oh, and Spitfire's green. Yeah, from his name you'd assume he's orange. Lol.**

**Valinor's Twilight: Thanks! I think I've answered most of your review in my PM, but I forgot to add, you're a great drawer! I cannot draw anime for my life! But then, I don't watch anime, though my two friends are obsessed with it. I usually update faster than a month, though I wanted to see how many reviews I could get;; I really need to know your point of views. I'll update soon though!**

**Princess-Enigma: Hey! Murtagh and Illera will have to go through some hard stuff first, and then there's the war, and what's going to happen after it. Which will take awhile, but love can last through anything right? Well, maybe not, but that's ok. Yep, I got my reviews! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Dronzer: Hey! Thanks! I really don't know whose reading my story, but thanks for updating. I'll update soon!**


	19. Insecurity

**Thanks for the reviews! I'm still working on chapter 20, I've been working on two new fics as well…so updates will be a little scarcer…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**--**

Illera drew a breath and tightened her hold on Aie. The elf she was facing was Lideun, fast and agile. _Great…I get a fast elf who probably will slaughter me…Eragon has that strong elf, Ryan has that elf who looks like Vanir and Arya is facing that has-been one, Legas. He doesn't look like much…but __was__ Master of the Blade, if not only once so…_

The announcer, Ande, had his voice magically magnified.

"Lideun hasn't come out yet, the Oriental Rider has a tight grip on her sword…This should be interesting…"

Illera resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. _And Ande is an elf? Doesn't act like one…__** Illera! The elf—**_Amira was cut off as Lideun leapt into the arena, garbed in blue. _Hah. I'm wearing black…don't we look merry._

Lideun held her sword out and blocked the edge with the traditional words and Illera did the same.

Ande commented, "And both females calmly block the edges of their swords…Lideun looks tense….And it begins!"

Lideun slashed at Illera and she leaned back to avoid it. Illera's eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out the elf's style. _Fast…strong…but she seems like she's holding back. Why?_

She swung her blade to parry the elves'. Her eyes were cold and calculating as she figured out how to take out her opponent.

The elf swung at her head and Illera dodged it. Taking a swipe at the elf's hip, Lideun danced away and stabbed at Illera. _Trickery __always__ works. _

She feigned a stab at the elf's leg, and the elf swung her sword to meet it. Illera brought Aie up in an arc and the elf was faced with the point of Aie.

"Dead," Illera pronounced.

The other elf smiled, though her eyes carefully concealed anger and frustration.

Ande concluded, "And the Rider wins the match! Great display of swordsmanship, future combatants beware. " She sheathed Aie.

Illera held out her hand and helped the elf up. Lideun rather grudgingly shook hands with her and left the arena. Illera herself made her way to where Eragon and Ryan sat.

"That was great!" Ryan declared, giving her an encouraging smile.

Eragon agreed before giving her a quick, friendly hug. She raised an eyebrow.

"Arya's here…you wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression."

He shrugged. "If she cannot agree to me honoring a friend then…" he trailed off.

Illera nodded. "I see. Who are you against? The elf…what's his name?"

"Sharr," Ryan interjected.

"Yeah him."

"You'd be _great_ at remembering names for end-of-ear diplomacies," Eragon remarked teasingly, drawing Ilian.

"Exactly. Though why bother? I have you two for that," she smiled at him with a sparkle in her eye. "Well then, we'll be over there, and see you later. Good luck!"

She walked off. Eragon smiled grimly and went off to face his opponent.

--

Illera sprawled face down on her bed and moaned. _Augh!!! So…fucking…grueling!!! Elves!!!! __**At least you are still in the tournament. Many are not. **__Arya, Vanir, Ryan, and Eragon are still in. __**Yes, but just think of the many, many elves that have been defeated. **__I think I wish I was defeated. Frickin' HURTS! __**I can see. Though you have come this far…there's only about fifty contestants left. **__Yeah…and that other person…the champion now is too. I watched him when he was against the has-been, Legas. Legas is good, though not good enough, and I have the feeling the champion was holding back. __**Possibly. **__Mm. Ugh. I feel terrible…I do wish it would hurry up and be over with. __**Mhm.**_

Before she could fall asleep, someone knocked on the door and she sat up.

"Come in!"

Eragon opened the door and made his way into the room, massaging his right arm.

"Oromis wants us to go to the old Rider training hall. Apparently he has something to give us."

"Ok. Dang, this Blade of Glory thing really hurts doesn't it?"

"Completely," Eragon muttered and went out to get Ryan. Illera followed him.

Minutes later, the three of them entered a large, very old hall where the Riders of old had trained, talked, assembled, and lived. Glaedr was there, picking out things from between his teeth with his claws.

_Where's Oromis, Ebrithil? _Illera sent into his mind.

_**Impatiance…you shall see. Islanzadi and Arya and also there.**_

_Thank you._

Illera forwarded the message to the other two and their dragons, and they nodded.

Some time later, Oromis and Islanzadi emerged, with Arya slinking out of the shadows.

"Come, Riders," Oromis addressed them and beckoned. Looking confused, the three followed the elves into a vast armory, filled with shields, spears, plates of armor, everything except swords.

Islanzadi stood, and said in answer to their questioning glances, "I understand that there is a battle rapidly approaching. I also believe Eragon has armor, both Saphira's and his, that is correct, no?"

Eragon replied, "That is correct, Your Majesty."

"Good. However, both the other Riders do not. We have found dragon armor that had been magically enhanced; it will fit any dragon at any age. However, there had been many sets before. Some are damaged, some pieces lost; there are only two complete sets. I am sorry, Saphira, but as you already have armor, we have decided to gift Amira and Spitfire with these two sets. Saphira, I would think you would prefer to use those; the extra weight is unnecessary."

_**That is fine. But I wonder what I shall do when I outgrow the armor the dwarves have given me.**_

"Ah. Our elven smiths are working on that now. It shall be the exact same as the sets you are about to see and it will never tarnish, as all elven pieces."

"Thank you Your Majesty," Illera bowed and Ryan did the same.

"Do not thank me now. Thank me when they have saved your life."

Arya came forward and laid down three human armor sets. "This is yours Shadeslayer," she said, and Eragon took them with a strange look. Arya had _never_ called him Shadeslayer.

"And yours, Rider," Arya addressed Illera and gave her a beautifully crafted silver armor, set with intricate designs. It was lightweight, yet Illera knew it could stand up to just about anything.

"Thank you, Princess," Illera thanked her and placed them on the ground.

"Ryan, there are yours," Arya handed Ryan the last set. The three armor sets were all the same, with slight variations in decoration. All were the same silvery color, though there were each respectively, a sapphire, an emerald, and an amethyst to mark them apart.

Oromis returned to the group and entered the bandy of words.

"Riders! Welcome to the hall of the Riders of eld. Amira and Spitfire's armor is over there. Amira's is the silvered purple one, and Spitfire's is the silvered green. Saphira's armor, as soon as it is complete, will be the same, but silvered blue. When worn, the colors mark you as one of the Varden. I will show you how to put it on."

Amira and Spitfire moved over next to the heavy plates of armor and Oromis showed them where to place each plate.

"Place it here, and you fasten it tightly here…"

Arya watched them, and unconsciously moved closer to Eragon. _I wish we could be together openly…and I sorely regret having rejected him. I didn't think it would be this hard…_

Eragon glanced at her worriedly. "Arya, is there a reason why you're standing so close to me?"

She flushed slightly and stepped back. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

He resumed watching Illera and Ryan and Arya suddenly said, "I need to talk to you."

Giving her a startled look, he said, "Alright. Why?"

She shook her head and walked out of the large hall and into the room across the hall.

Eragon pushed himself off the wall and followed her.

When he went into the room Arya got up and shut the door with a click.

"Well?" he asked, taking note of her strange behavior.

She didn't speak at first.

Then, she blurted out, "Do you love Illera?"

**How was it? Please R&R!**

**Review Responses:**

**Anurell: Lol. Yep, love doing that to readers but hate having that happen to myself XD. **

**Valinor's Twilight: Oh, that's fun. Thanks! Ok, I'll try not to put any author's notes in the chapter; I wrote this one awhile ago and forgot to check. **

**Tidustide: Thanks! Yeah, sometimes if authors don't really introduce characters well –not saying that I did perfectly, I really don't like how I did it,- it's kind of annoying with Mary Sues and everything. Yeah, I checked out your story! Pretty good. I really have to get to the Ra'Zac. Mind if I borrow your idea of having the chapter from the third book in the story??**

**Arya 4 ever: Lol! Thanks!! Hope you liked this one; still working on the 20****th**** chapter though.**

**Titanar: Thanks!! I don't think I'll stop this story anytime soon…don't worry.**

**Remember the Darkness: Love your username! Its like, "well bad guys are memorable too!" Lol, still working on chapter 20 though. **


	20. A Change is Gonna Come

**Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the bit of delay, got a bit busy with school and my other fics. :) Oh and congrats to fAtEd LoVe—hundredth reviewer!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**--**

Eragon couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Wait. Did she suggest that I'm attracted to Illera? After I told Arya I love her?_ Arya looked apprehensive.

"And why would you think that?" he asked softly, his steady gaze boring into hers.

She looked away. "Because you two and Ryan always spend so much time with each other."

"We are all simply friends."

"I see."

"Why do you ask?"

Arya knew this question had been coming, but hadn't prepared an answer.

"…Eragon vodhr…"

"Arya Svit-Kona?"

"Would you still accept me?" she asked softly.

"I wouldn't ever reject you," he answered, his intense, dark eyes smoldering.

Overcome with emotion, she stepped forward and hugged him. Eragon seemed surprised at the physical contact, but hugged her back all the same.

"We…not in Ellesmera," he murmured. "Maybe…after the battle."

"Mm," Arya sighed. "When will that be?"

"In a week or so."

They stood like that for maybe five minutes, and then Illera walked in on them. She grinned.

"I knew it would work," she said, and walked back out.

--

A day or two later, Ellesmera resumed with Blade of Glory. The remaining contestants fought one another until there were four left. Eragon, Illera, the former champion, and Arya; Ryan had been eliminated when an elf had cried foul.

"You must draw lots," Islanzadi proclaimed, holding out a basket with two names on them to Illera. She took one. Arya.

Illera smiled crookedly at her, and at the same time felt sympathetic for Eragon. _Although him facing Arya __**would**__ be kind of awkward…_Amira chuckled. _**Yes. Have you noticed ever since that day in the old Riders' Hall they've both been much happier? **__Yes. I've noticed alright…I __**told**__ her it would be good for her…but no one ever listens to me,_ Illera thought wryly.

"Contestants!" The announcer yelled into the microphone. "We have decided to have the two pairs face off at the same time, in different arenas so it would take less time."

Illera acknowledged this, and drew Aie. Arya did the same, and they blocked their swords.

"And it begins!" the announcer said with a flourish.

Illera sighed to herself. _I wish I could get this over with…_

Arya stood there, watching Illera. _Great. She wants me to start._

Illera slashed at Arya, forcing the elf away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Eragon struggle with the champion.

_Fine._

They danced like that, blades whipping around like a colorful wind. Arya stabbed in her direction, Illera jumped backward and felt something slam into her side knocking the wind out of her. _What the-!_

Eragon was on the floor, scrambling for his blade.

Illera slid and knocked over Eragon's opponent, giving him more time while pretending to lose Aie.

_Hehe. Eragon you owe me one._

He smiled slightly and returned to sparring.

Arya's relief was barely noticeable, but Illera was close enough that she could sense it.

"Come on. I know you want to finish it," Illera murmured, eyes connected with the elf princess'.

Arya didn't say anything, but glanced back at Eragon quickly.

_I would thank you if you ended it._ The elf connected with the Rider's mind.

Illera's lips curved into a grim smile, and Arya pretended to thrust at her.

The Rider avoided it and flipped Arya's sword out of her hand.

When the elf dived to get it, Illera went after her and flicked her sword up to Arya's throat.

"Dead."

Ande boomed, "And the Oriental Rider wins the match!"

Arya shook Illera's hand and went off to sit next to the Queen. Illera gave her a knowing look before sitting down next to Ryan.

The two Riders watched their leader struggle with a massive elf wielding a two-handed steel colored sword.

"Jesus, no wonder my leg fucking _hurts_," Illera muttered. "I tripped him!"

"Smart," Ryan chuckled, his eyes intent on Eragon.

The elf slipped slightly, just enough off balance for Eragon to pounce on him and swing Ilian up to his neck.

"The Blue Rider wins this match!" Ande was heard speaking quickly, but the other Riders paid him no attention.

"How was it?" Illera asked him as soon as Eragon got to them.

"Hard," he muttered, giving her a weak smile.

Ryan laughed. "Well you'll have to spar her next. Good luck with that!"

"Mm."

Ten minutes later, they were facing off. Illera hissed through her teeth; she wanted it to end quickly.

"Eragon?" she whispered quietly, pretending to seek a hole in his defense.

"Yes?" he answered back softly.

"When you and Murtagh fought, who won?"

His answer was prolonged, and she felt like his eyes were studying her.

"Neither. We were evenly matched," he answered.

"I see. Let's start."

She sliced at his arm and he rolled away quickly, recovering from the surprise attack.

Eragon thrust Ilian towards her side and she danced back, avoiding the thin blue blade.

Ande broke through her concentration.

"And they are weaving such an intricate web of steel! It's almost as if it is a dance, not a spar! This is how you spar, with elegance and grace as well as strength and brutality!"

Illera resisted another urge to roll her eyes. Eragon struck again, this time closer to her than she would've liked. Parrying the blow, she tried to flip her sword so that his would fall, but he twisted his blade away. Her eyes narrowed. _Hm. This is interesting. __**Don't get too cocky Illera. Remember what Murtagh taught you. **__I wouldn't ever forget,_ Illera almost snapped at her dragon. _Sorry. Trying to-_ the train of thought was cut off as she dodged another strike from Eragon. _Sorry, I'll talk to you later. This is challenging._ Amira chuckled before withdrawing from the conversation.

Illera stabbed at his chest and he bent backwards gracefully to avoid it. Her eyes widened._Well that's one thing I've not seen!_

Eragon straightened and swung his sword near her leg. She slammed Aie down to block it, and the vibration carried up Ilian, into his arm. Eragon winced, but brought Ilian crashing down, aiming for her shoulder. Illera slid to the side. Tripping him, she flicked Aie up to his throat and said, "Dead."

He grinned and she helped him up.

"Good match," Eragon said, shaking her hand.

Illera smiled. "It was more interesting than I thought it would be," she teased.

Ande was going off target and rambling until Islanzadi stood up.

"Elves of the Realm, we have just concluded the Blade of Glory! The champion is Rider Illera! And her prize is…" _Wait we have a prize!? __**Apparently.**_

"…A shield, created by Nideun of Kirtan! It will, as soon as you touch it Rider, bear your emblem."

Illera stepped forward and received the light, beautifully wrought steel shield. As soon as she touched it, a purple dragon formed in the middle of it, and the backround of it turned light lavender.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Islanzadi smiled at her and declared the ceremony finished.

--

It was time to go back to the Varden; the battle was rapidly approaching. Illera shook her head as though she was trying to get rid of an irksome fly. _Ok. So Arya is going to fly with us, Orik will fly with Ryan and Eragon will have the bags? __**Yes. Eragon wishes to have time to think, according to Saphira. **__I see. When will the battle take place? __**Glaedr said it would be around the time we arrive, give or take a few days. **__And the elven armies and Islanzadi have left already correct? __**The night before. Oromis gives us his blessing. **_

She acknowledged this and finished saddling and armoring Amira. Beside her, Eragon and Ryan were doing the same, Orik and Arya watching. Illera stepped back. The dragon's armor was tinted so slightly the color of the dragon, making it very colorful indeed. Illera snorted. _Just imagine Thorn with pink armor. _Amira chuckled. _**That would indeed be a sight to see.**_

Eragon strapped the bags to Saphira, Ryan helped Orik climb onto Spitfire and Arya smiled slightly at Illera. With a start, she remembered she had to help the elf up.

"Here," she said and told her how to get up. Arya nodded and sat in between two snow white spikes. Illera effortlessly swung up and landed in the saddle.

"Ready?" Eragon called out. Illera nodded.

Saphira took off, leaving deep gouges in the ground. Amira did the same, following the blue dragon in the flight path. Behind them, Illera sensed Spitfire take flight and soar through the clouds. She sucked in a deep breath._Back to the Varden._

--

**Review Responses:**

**Knight Vampire: Thanks! When I read your reply, I went searching for the poem. Turns out I forgot I put it in chapter 15 :). I really didn't know what Illera would write for her poem, so I put a little bit in; I guess I forgot to add it into the Agaeti Blodthren. I didn't really make a finished poem, but I could write one up if you really wanted and post it as a one shot. Thanks again!!**

**EragonPeep: Lol, I was trying to figure out a really shocking question for a cliffie ending. D. Apparently I succeeded. Her asking that question really shows how little self confidence she has; she's still human! Er…**

**Jeslie-saheia: Thanks! Lol, I've read soo many fics, so I decided to craye my own. Haha, Murtagh just doesn't understand some things; guys are stupid like that xD. I don't think I'll finish anytime soon; still got a lot. I'll try to read your story! You're right, Illera and Eragon are just really close friends. Glad you liked it!**

**Arya 4 ever: Lol. Eragon's too nice, too soft to say no xD. Possibly a little unhealthily obsessed with Arya too. It's a good thing though!**

**fAteD lOvE: Thanks!! Sorry, I'd already written that part by the time you reviewed. I think Eragon's too soft to do that to Arya though!! And congrats, you wre the hundredth reviewer!!**

**Valinor's Twilight: Thanks! Glad you like it :)**


	21. The Battle

**Thanks for the reviews! I've started another story and my mom is really pissed that I have a B- in LA. So I have to type some stuff up really fast on the computer after school; updates will be scarcer. Hopefully I'll be able to bring my grade up soon!**

**And haha. I got my first flame. Was wondering how long it would take. if you REALLY want to see what it said in the flame just look under 'reviews for A New Hope.' **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**--**

They'd been flying for a couple hours now, and the passengers had fallen asleep. The Riders were contemplating the fierce battle that was soon to come.

Illera leaned forward, against Amira's neck. _I love flying. It'd only be better if we were flying above the ocean…_

Amira flapped her wings once and she was next to Saphira. Spitfire had been on the other side of Saphira, steadily maintaining his pace.

_**I can sense death; the battle is occurring very soon. We must hurry. **__I would warn the other dragons. __**I will. **_

Amira dove downwards; Saphira and Spitfire were caught by surprise but followed suit. Suddenly, a downpour of rain crashed down on them, effectively waking Arya and Orik who swore.

_**I saw it coming,**_Amira said smugly. Illera cracked a smile as the dragons pulled out of the raining area.

They drew closer and closer to the battle site; they could see smoke, Varden, and Empiric colors. There was no fighting yet. Saphira landed first, then Spitfire, then Amira. Nasuada looked up from the clump of officials and Arya joined them. The Riders and Orik joined them after the dragons had settled into a more comfortable position.

"Riders! You are back!" Nasuada greeted them, passing rather cold eyes over Illera.

She shrugged it off and kept quiet.

Eragon didn't notice and smiled warmly. "Nasuada."

She turned her back on Illera and to Eragon. "Eragon. You have arrived just in time; the battle has not started yet."

He bowed his head. "Yes. We however, are prepared for the battle. So-"

Eragon was cut of as a horn blew and a messenger galloped over on a dark horse, staying a good distance away.

"You have received the attention of King Galbatorix the Lord, Emperor of Alagaesia, Rider for the Crown, etc etc. He has given you the opportunity to be forgiven for your insurgency, and your men will be spared! You should feel grateful and humble that he has given his attention to the likes of you!" the messenger shouted scornfully.

Nasuada spoke, her eyes flashing. "Tell you liege I have no wish to back down. We will fight to the death!"

The messenger spat on the ground. "Very well then. You have sealed your own fate."

He turned to gallop back to the Empire, but Spitfire hissed and lashed his tail, knocking the soldier out of his seat. Amira opened her maw and roared, breathing fire upon the unfortunate man. He gave a horrible cry, and then crumpled into ashes.

Nasuada nodded and all the troops, human, elves and dwarves alike were armored and grim, waiting for the battle to begin.

The Empire blew their horn that signified the beginning of a battle. Illera and Eragon flew above and their dragons roasted hundreds of soldiers who died with cries. They had agreed to Ryan fight with Vanir and Arya; the enemy still thought the green egg hadn't hatched.

Illera nocked an arrow and aimed it at a soldier who was shouting orders. Loosing it, she watched with satisfaction as it hit her target and the figure crumpled.

Arrows flew at both Riders as enemy archers noticed them. Eragon and Illera's wards held firm, and drained their strength only slightly. _Good thing I have energy stored in Aie's hilt. And on the scabbard. _Murmuring, "Ora, hlaupa, tauthr du vrangr ono thelduin uni." **(A/N, Arrows, run, follow the path of which you came. Couldn't find a word for 'came' so made one up.)**

The barbed arrows reversed directions and returned to the archers, killing nearly all. Eragon grinned and glanced at her before separating to the other side of the troops to burn them.

Illera surveyed the many Empire troops against the dwarves, Varden and Elves. _We'll be fighting for awhile yet Amira…better prepare ourselves. __**Okay. Let's go down. **__Kay. _

Amira landed in a space the elves had hastily cleared and spotted Saphira and Eragon at the other side. Ryan, Vanir and Arya sidled closer to Amira.

Illera slashed at anyone who came near or tried to wound Amira, though her wards held firm. One soldier swiped at Amira's chest and stood stupidly when the ward wouldn't let him through. Vanir decapitated him with a swing of his sword easily enough. Illera was forced to raise her shield as a flurry of new arrows swarmed at her.

They fought long and hard into the afternoon. Soon, Nasuada called for exhausted or severely wounded troops to rest, eat and be treated. Illera sighed and asked Amira to survey the battle. They rose and registered the thousands of Empire troops wading towards them, and the Varden's command paled considerably. _Is Spitfire still waiting? Lending Ryan his power? __**Yes. I do believe Saphira and I should go burn many of the troops, it'll help much. **__Yes. You go, I'll fight with Eragon. __**Are you sure? **__Yes. _

Illera slid off of Amira and contacted Eragon, telling him of the plan. He agreed and they met, carving a path of dead enemies before them.

"So Eragon, how many Empiric troops are there?" she asked, and lopped off someone's head.

"Around a hundred twenty thousand. The Varden number ninety thousand, including elves and dwarves," he stabbed someone through the chest.

"I see."

"Where is the Red Rider? Do you feel his presence?"

She gave him a look and dodged an ax flying towards her. "Yes, I can completely sense one mind among two hundred and ten thousand soldiers."

"Well I was just wondering."

They were separated as the troops flew between them, and Illera lost her sword. About to retrieve it, she stumbled and a sword was swung to her neck as a face leered at her. Her heart just about stopped. _Baen!_

--

Murtagh followed Baen through the throng of twisting bodies. _This was a good plan. I can get close to Illera without anyone seeing. Wha-Where's Baen going? Oh my-ILLERA! _

He got close enough to hear Baen say, "The King Galbatorix again extends his hospitality to you…even though you took most foul advantage of it. Join us. We shall make Alagaesia great again, rebuild the Riders, and regain all of the glory we once had. Join us, and you will revel in that glory, in the power."

Murtagh was close enough he could hear Illera spit out, "Never! I'll never follow that cursed-"

She was cut off as Baen's sword edged into her armor, and she choked.

Murtagh lunged forward and sliced Zar'roc through Baen's armor and the mutilated body collapsed.

Illera stood in shock, and bent and retrieved Aie, which had been under Baen's boot.

"You ought to be more careful," Murtagh murmured in her ear, "you owe me one. I see you've got a new sword…elven made?"

She nodded.

"You have a nasty cut there…" he roved his hand over where Baen had cut her, and it healed. "Midnight, in the forest," he ended and disappeared.

--

_Amira! Did you hear?__**Yes. **__Thorn should be there as well…how is the crash and burn going? __**We've killed at least a thousand troops by now. **__Good, keep doing that, I know it's not fair…but it has to be done. __**Ok. **__I'll target the officers, with Eragon and the rest. See you later, and keep safe!__**Yes ma'am, **_Amira answered dryly.

Illera slashed a path back to Eragon, Vanir, Arya and Ryan.

"I think we should target the commanding officials. It'll wreck chaos on the troops; they won't know what to do."

"Yes, and afterwards we can ask the men if they will fight with us or not. They hold no love for the Empire," Eragon added.

Vanir nodded. "I and Ryan will take out the minor officers, say the ones near the cannons, wearing red. The major officers are wearing black no?"

"Yes, I, Eragon and Illera shall kill them. Once you are done, return to destroying troops," Arya contributed. Illera winced as her wards took their toll on her energy, and she reduced many of them. _ At this rate, I won't have any wards left._

They nodded. Vanir and Ryan dashed off, and the three of them edged closer and closer to where several officers stood shouting. They nocked their arrows, aimed at the officers, and let loose. Three of them fell, and another was dispatched from behind by a Varden soldier.

"Great. That was four. There are…eight more. And as for the minor officers, there are eleven of them," Illera said.

Eragon grunted and snuck closer, and killed two with a spin of his sword. Arya stabbed another through the chest, and Illera sliced off another's head when he tried to rally themselves against the three. They destroyed the others with several bolts of magic and Vanir and Ryan appeared.

"Done?" Illera asked, wiping off Aie on an enemy's leggings.

"Mph," Ryan grunted and stabbed someone.

"I guess so. Eragon and I should really-" Illera was cut off as she heard something from Amira. Her face paled. She spun around and carved a path, dashing towards her dragon. _Amira!!! You must pretend to battle Thorn! And he you!! Have you—__**Yes, no need to worry little one. **__I'm sorry, I just have the natural instinct to. Where's Eragon?__** He's over—ILLERA! Murtagh!!! You **__**know**__** he cannot control his actions! And Eragon cannot hold his own against Murtagh! He is fresh! **__Yes, yes!! _

Illera dashed towards the side part of the battle where Murtagh had Eragon at sword point, driving it closer and closer to his body. Drawing Aie, she reached them just in time to slide Aie underneath Zar'roc.

She turned to Murtagh. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that." _Just a show for Eragon…_

She reached out to touch Murtagh's mind. He let her in warily, and she unconsciously soaked up his experiences from when she left. _How long has it been since I left you? _She asked. _About a year and five months. Is the 'I'm afraid I can't let you do that' thing a show for Eragon? __Yes. Do you still trust me? __With my life. _ Illera felt a surge of happiness with those simple three words. _With my life. He only trusts Thorn, and maybe Eragon like that. His life is what he values most with everything…_ She didn't notice Murtagh register the flow of feelings that swam over to his mind. _Ok, if your done…we should put on a convincing show for Eragon. __ Wha-oh, yes, of course._

Murtagh's amusement slithered over to her mind, and she struck, and he parried. _I'll leave your mind now; we have to make this convincing. Like a spar…but with blood. __What?! I don't want to hurt you!__ It's necessary Murtagh! And with any luck I can heal it quickly.__Fine._

She could tell he wasn't too satisfied but relented anyways; he knew the stakes. They were playing a dangerous game, that would only finish when they killed the king.

He swung at her side, and she danced away, aiming a blow at his arm. He raised his shield and stabbed at her stomach, but she rolled away. Murtagh frowned and cut Zar'roc across her arm, drawing blood, wincing as he did so. Illera didn't flinch, though she let the wound bleed for several minutes, ensuring Eragon saw before healing it.

Illera reached out with her mind and touched Eragon's. _Go, slaughter some more people.__**But! I cannot do that, leaving you-**__GO! I can deal with Murtagh by myself! _Her voice was so strong he winced and obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

He tore away, back to where Varden officials were.

"The Empire will retreat," Murtagh spoke softly. "We are done here…though I am not."

"Midnight, the forest, no?" Illera asked him.

"Yes. The troops will retreat…most of them, unless they desert. Which is a very large possibility. I will fly to the forest. Until midnight, Illera."

"Until then…Murtagh," she offered him a crooked smile that hid all of her love for him.

He sheathed his sword and disappeared among the throng of bodies. A trumpeting horn rang out and the Empire began to retreat. Illera returned to Amira's side and saw a ruby blot disappear into the mountains. The purple dragon began her ascent into the sky and she saw the Empire troops turn back and flee, though around a fourth broke away from the mass and returned to the site, and a group of horsemen went out to meet them. _And that would be the deserters._

After the battle, Islanzadi sent out several of the unexhausted elves to find out who was dead or injured. The rest of the elves worked overtime healing the wounded. Nasuada announced that the fourth of the Empire's army that had deserted were fresh, and hadn't wanted to fight. They were now collecting bodies along with the elves and dwarves.

--

The elven body count numbered 13, the dwarves a hundred twenty-three, and the humans numbered too many to keep track of. Not one elf or dwarf had been captured.

The day passed by quickly, with the Varden harvesting useable weapons, shields and armor. By the time they were all done, Arya had to push Illera into her tent to sleep.

--

Hours later, Amira woke her gently. _**Illera, it's close to midnight. You might want to wake up.**__ Huh wha…Oh midnight!_

Changing into better clothes, she ran her fingers through her hair to get it neater.She slipped out of her tent and climbed onto Amira, her veins drumming with adrenaline and excitement. _Ready Amira? __**Definitely.**_

The dragon took off silently, and winged off towards a line of dots which as they got closer, proved to be trees.

Illera reached out with her mind to test if there were anyone who followed either her or Murtagh. No one. She lightly brush against his conscience, and slid off of Amira. _Go with Thorn, I'll tell you anything important. Treasure this chance while you have it. __**Spoken wisely.**_

Amira took off and flew off into a clearing where Thorn was. Murtagh stood wearing black, leaning against a tree. _Murtagh._ Illera started running and when she reached him pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Murtagh!"

--

His breath caught in his throat. _She came! __**Well no duh…she wouldn't skip out on you. **_

"Illera!" he breathed, and held her tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder and he drew his fingers through her hair.

"You came," he murmured softly into her hair.

She raised her head and gave him a slight look. "Did you think I wouldn't?"  
"No. I'm just in shock…from…from everything."

She understood, and he kissed her softly. She shivered as a harsh wind bit at her uncovered skin.

Concerned, he looked down at her. "Cold?" he asked quietly.

"Just a little."

He moved closer into the forest, where the trees provided shelter, and turned her so that his back was the one facing the wind.

"Thank you."

He held her closer, and she inhaled his scent, her arms around him.

"How long can you stay?" he asked her softly, and kissed her again.

"Mm, I don't know…Just not too late…"

"Okay, good."

She responded to his kiss, and he swiped his tongue around her mouth, tasting her.

Murtagh's hands slid under her shirt, to the back where he played with her shift.

Reluctantly, she pulled away from his kiss and took his hands out from behind her tunic.

She rested her head on his chest.

He asked her, "Are you tired?" staring down at her with intense eyes.

"Yes, definitely."

"Were you hurt?"

"It was nothing I couldn't heal. Thanks to my training with you."

He smiled.

He played with her hair, and started lightly massaging her shoulders. Illera leaned into him, sighing softly.

"I want this war to be over…" she said, frustrated. "So many people have died, just because the Rider's couldn't defeat Galbatorix! There were hundreds then! And now…only I, Eragon, and you. Is that possible? What would have happened…if Galbatorix had never become a Rider?"

"Neither of us would be here," Murtagh said, trying to soothe her.

"…I guess…maybe…then I shall work harder then ever to end this damned war."

"Everyone is. But the only way for you to survive is to destroy Galbatorix. I...I'll die. He had me bond in so many ways that even if he was killed, I would die 'defending him'," Murtagh spat bitterly.

Illera started, and stared at him, shocked. "You…you won't die. Don't talk like that…you'll survive. I know you will…and if…just if you don't…" she trailed off, her eyes betraying her emotion.

"I just wish sometimes that I could have escaped or something, and like I could have done something to prevent everything Galbatorix had done to me."

"You couldn't change it. It would've been worse, if you had tried to do something, and I know you know that."

He didn't answer, but tightened his hold around her waist slightly. Illera turned around in his lap and kissed him reassuringly.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered and brushed his lips against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and they stayed like that for several hours, before she reluctantly decided she had to go. Amira and Thorn had come back some time ago and were lying next to each other.

"Murtagh…"

"Hm?"

"I have to go. I'm sorry…but if I don't get a move on they will notice and most likely send a search party out for me."

He chuckled quietly and loosened his hold on her.

"Be careful…and good luck," he said softly.

Illera hugged him again and said, "Gods Murtagh you make this so difficult. It's the third time I've had to leave you, and I hate it."

He smiled grimly and kissed her one more time before she reluctantly broke away.

"Take care Murtagh," she whispered before padding to Amira's side. _**Illera is so torn over this; she could go with Murtagh easily and they would be happy. But she won't. She's too proud, and she wants…no, needs to defeat Galbatorix. **_Amira sighed silently as Illera scrambled up, and suppressed the feelings before they could transmit over to her. _**That wouldn't do…she hates people who pity her. **_

Amira turned to Thorn and saw her anguish reflected there. _**I must go…Tread carefully Thorn. **__**As will you I hope.**__** Of course…and take care of your Rider. Illera would die if anything happened to him. **__**And Murtagh would likely commit suicide if she died.**__** Humans…**__**Indeed,**_Thorn chuckled. _**We shall meet soon. **__**It is written in the stars.**_

Amira snorted and took off. Both males, Rider and Dragon, watched as their lovers flew farther and farther away, and wondered when, or if they would ever meet again.

--

**How was that?? I wrote it awhile ago. **

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	22. On Our Way

**Hey thanks for all the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**--**

Eragon sighed and ran his hand through his hair. _Battles are so annoying….just a waste of time and resources. Though we need to weaken the Empire…Ah that reminds me; the Ra'zac. _

Roran came up to him, scraping grime off his armor.

"Eragon, I need to rescue Katrina. I-before they can do anything to her," he said shakily.

Eragon wearily lifted his gaze to meet his cousin's. "Aye. We will depart at once. For the Ra'zac…I think we would need Illera, and no other. Two dragons, their Riders and you would suffice."

"What if-aye. If it is not enough though Eragon…" he trailed off.

Eragon smiled tiredly. "It will be."

"I need to rescue her."

"I will inform Nasuada and Illera. We will depart tomorrow if things go according to plan."

Roran nodded and left to pack.

Eragon stood up and walked out of his tent to look for Nasuada. He found her talking to Arya and Vanir as representatives of the elves.

"Nasuada, Roran and I have decided to rescue his fiancée. I have told you of this before, and I would like to set out tomorrow. I'm also hoping Illera would come; two riders and their dragons should be more than a match for the Ra'zac."

Nasuada acknowledged this. "Ryan would not go would he? We still need at least one Rider here."

"No, he will not."

She nodded. "Then by all means, continue and rescue her."

Eragon smiled at her gratefully and left, not noticing both elves boring holes in his back.

He walked further on and found Illera emerging from her tent still sleepy-eyed.

"Illera! I was just looking for you. Roran needs to rescue his fiancée from the Ra'zac; I think I've told you about this before. And ah, we would like your help."

She looked him over. "I'll go, don't worry. I've not much to do anyways. Will Arya or another elf come?"

"I don't think Arya will come…her duties as Elven Ambassador prevent her. And-"

Illera gave him a look. "Don't try and lie to me. Might work on some people or even dwarves or elves, but not me. You want to keep her safe. Just remember she won't take kindly to that and she's not helpless. I think you would know that."

"Er…yes…well…I'll go ask Vanir if he wishes to come." He hurried off.

She managed a smile. _I sometimes wonder if anyone takes my advice seriously._ Amira snorted. _**Maybe no one does because it's never really advice.**__Tch, fine. _She went back into her tent to gather the essentials.

--

Ryan was sitting against Spitfire as they contemplated the battle and the future.

_How does everyone think that the battle is something glorious? Because it's not. It's just blood, gore, men dying, humans and parts of them everywhere. _He shuddered. He'd killed constantly, knowing it was kill or be killed; the only way to survive.

Spitfire snuffled. The green dragon had been unable to participate in the battle as they wanted to keep him a secret. _**It was for a good cause. By the end of this war, it will have been redeemed. **__I hope so._

Eragon approached him and said, "Ryan, my cousin's fiancée has been stolen by the Ra'zac. Oromis told you of them did he not?"

"Huh? Oh, yes he did."

"We are going to rescue her. Illera will accompany me and possibly Vanir; but we need at least one Rider here. So would you stay here?"

He smiled. "Aye. I've no mood to go seeking heroics anyways."

"Good man. I owe you one."

Eragon left him to go inform Arya. At the thought of her, a smile crept across his lips and his eyes got a faraway look in them. Saphira chuckled to herself. _**Oh dear…how hard the strong do fall…**_

Arya took the news rather well, accepting his reasoning that she, as Elven Ambassador couldn't just rush off to the Ra'zac's lair. She did however, frown when he said he intended to take Vanir.

"If you take Vanir it would be the same as taking me!"

"Arya-"

"If you're going to take Vanir, then you have to take me." It was a simple statement, but Eragon knew if he said no he would lose her. "Very well. We leave tomorrow. Please…for my sake and yours, make sure everyone is prepared."

Her green eyes glowed. "I will."

--

Illera blew out a breath, causing her hair to fly. _What am I to do on this cursed journey? Sleep and fall off perhaps? I only hope we are at our full strength when we take on the Ra'zac. Although two Riders, dragons, elves and a human does seem rather much for just two Ra'zac. __**Mayhap you underestimate the king's slaves. **__Perhaps. _

Arya sat behind her in the passenger's part with Vanir behind her. Luckily, the elves were both slim and light; there were no squashed persons. Roran flew with Eragon, his jaw set. The dragons glided through the sky, over rolling hills and plains at a swift speed.

Finally, after some hours the dragons drifted lower and landed.

Illera went up to Eragon and asked, "Shadeslayer, why must so many be brought with us?"

Eragon grinned lopsidedly. "Reasons. But most of all, don't underestimate the Empire. The Red Rider might be there. Just remember that...don't underestimate the Empire."

Illera raised an eyebrow but couldn't help smiling slightly. "Mhm. You couldn't keep Arya away from you hm?"

Eragon gave her a guilty impish look and went off to find Arya.

Illera laughed and turned on her heel back to Amira. Vanir and Roran were hunched near the fire trying to create something edible. Saphira and Amira were chatting near the fire, watching the would-be chefs' struggle. Illera watched them for a bit and walked over to Amira.

_What are they trying to make? __**I honestly have no idea. I think Saphira or I should catch something, a deer perhaps, a small one, for you, Eragon and Roran to eat. Did they pack their own food if they insist on not eating meat. **__Perhaps. I'll go ask for their opinion._

Illera walked closer to the fire and said, "Amira offered to hunt for us. They would need to eat anyways and if you don't wish to eat meat then just say."

Vanir looked up at her, giving her a measured look. "Elves only eat meat when it is absolutely necessary. This will take two days to get to Helgrind…we would eat meat sooner or later as we didn't pack much food. I accept, though I would think you will ask Arya."

Roran gave her a grateful look. "Dear gods finally!"

Illera laughed and went to look for Arya and Eragon. She found them a little while off, sitting next to each other, appearing to have reached a lull in their conversation.

"Eragon, Saphira and Amira have offered to hunt for a suitable dinner. I am aware of the preferences of the Elves, however we don't have many rations. It's your own choice of course."

Arya answered, "This is a rather desperate situation…I accept."

Eragon replied in kind.

Illera nodded and relayed it to Amira. _**I suppose we should go then, and get an extra deer. We're hungry as well. **__Hunt safely. Don't be seen. __**Yes ma'am.**_

The two dragons took off rising into the clouds.

"Illera be ready for the Ra'zac. We will get there tomorrow near the afternoon so store much energy in Aie's jewel in the hilt. I will do the same with Ilian. We need to be at full strength tomorrow."

She nodded. "Yes. And what if the Red Rider is there?"

"Arya, you, Roran and Vanir will attack the Ra'zac. I expect two of you to one would keep you busy. If the other Rider is there, Saphira and I will deal with him. I still owe him. Amira will help you, and search for Katrina as quickly as you can after you destroy the Ra'zac. If there are any other innocents, release them. That's all really."

Illera acknowledged this and Eragon dismissed her. Reaching out to Amira, she lightly touched her mind and felt an intense concentration. _I wonder how we'll get into the Ra'zac lair…it will be guarded of course. Probably by magic. Will Murtagh be there? I don't know if we could stay out of each other's paths for long…though Eragon did assign me to the Ra'zac. He's so smart without meaning to._

Saphira drifted back, carrying a deer and a half. _**Amira has the other half and her own deer,**_ she told Illera. _Ok. Is she coming? __**Soon.**_

Eragon and Arya came closer to the fire and Arya sat there. Eragon and Roran took out several knives and started skinning the deer half.

"I think this is enough for us…what happened to the other half though?" Roran asked.

"Oh Amira has it. I think the dragons can have it however," Illera answered.

Vanir nodded, looking rather sick at the sight of the animal. Arya didn't look as bad, but still rather sick.

Amira landed with a whoosh next to the feasting Saphira. _**Do you still need this?**_ She asked.

Arya shook her head. The dragon shrugged and started eating the deer.

Meanwhile, Eragon dropped a few chunks of meat into a small pot. Thankfully, the half Saphira had given them was small. Soon, all the meat was in the pot and Roran was cooking it.

_Weird how the elves seem to be faint. On the battlefield they're fine…with much more blood than this. Or maybe it's because they've been in animals' minds before. _

Roran began spooning the stew out into bowls. Surprisingly, the elves seemed to like it. As they ate, battle plans surfaced.

"Stay out of the other Rider's way," Eragon told them. "Remember the Empire wants any one of you." He glanced very quickly at Arya before looking away.

Vanir noticed this and his mouth twitched into a faint smile.

Illera rolled her eyes and finished what was left of her stew and left the fireside for a quiet patch of sand further on. _At this rate…the whole nation will know by the time we face Galbatorix. I wish them well…it is almost as bad as my and Murtagh's predicament. _

Vanir sat beside her and put her thoughts into words. "It seems the 'forbidden' romance has occurred."

--

**Hey. Sorry that took awhile; been busy with school and plots. How was that? Next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks! Maybe two, depends. R&R Please!**

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**Ano-nimmus: Thanks for checking out my story! Wait, where do I mention Thorn is feminine?? And omg, thank you for telling me about Flame Rising; I was kinda sad over that, but not anymore. And if the way Illera can communicate with her dragon is kind of weird, how should I alter it? I do appreciate constructive criticism; it really helps. Amira and Saphira's names are pretty similar because I couldn't really think of a name so I was like, 'what should the name be!!!' **

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	23. The First of Many Traps

**Thanks for the reviews! Some of this won't be going how book three goes—just a warning. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**P.S. the inheritance trilogy will now be the inheritance cycle—four books. CP decided the third book would be too big and it'll be released…September 28 '08. **

**Sigh…so long…just thought you'd like to know if you didn't already.**

**--**

Illera smiled at him slightly. "So it seems."

"So it seems? Please tell me you haven't known of this before. Arya and Eragon?"

"On the contrary, I've known of this. I think you have known of Eragon's affection for her as well."

"I didn't know Arya harbored the same feelings."

Illera chose not to answer him. Vanir sighed silently. _She confuses me so. First, she would smile at me and send my heart hammering…then she would ignore me. Does Illera know about my own love for her? If she does, then why does she treat me so?_

"We should be heading back now. Eragon would want us at full power for the Ra'zac and Helgrind," her voice flowed over his ears. So roughly human but then not human, the perfect blend of immortality and human youth.

"Yes, we should." He got up and waited for her to do so as well.

"No you go on. I'll stay here a bit…I want to test something."

_There she goes again,_ he thought bitterly. "I'll be over there."

"Ok."

When he was gone Illera let a small smile curve her lips as her mind went to Murtagh. Far away, Amira pricked her ears. _**Be careful. I sense you're very happy…**__In a way I hope Murtagh will be at Helgrind…then in another way I hope he will not be. __**Little one…**__What? __**Careful now… **__I'm sorry._

Illera wiped the smile off her face and went back to the fireside where the others were talking.

Eragon announced he was going to sleep now and went over to Saphira. The rest of them did the same, and gentle breathing filled the night air.

--

Murtagh felt sick as he and Thorn flew to Helgrind, replaying what the king had screamed after his brutal punishment. _CAPTURE THE BLUE RIDER AND THIS TIME DO NOT FAIL OR THORN WILL BE DRIVEN CLOSE TO DEATH. RETRIEVE THE EGG AND DESTROY THE VARDEN! _The king had shouted more obscenities at him until finally, decided his punishment was enough and left him alone to bleed and suffer.

_**Don't worry…if it is only Eragon and his cousin we are fine…**_Thorn tried to soothe his frazzled nerves. _No, because then we could easily overpower them and take them to Galbatorix! __**Calm down Murtagh. Having you agitated isn't any much better. We'l figure something out when we get there. **_Murtagh's nerves were stretched out to breaking point. _I-your right. We'll wait._

**--**

The next morning, Roran was cooking a breakfast and the other magic users watched, contemplating the new day and the events that were sure to follow.

After they ate, Eragon decided that they should get going. The men rode on Saphira, the bags and women rode Amira.

Arya sat behind Illera on as they flew toward the dark mountain of Helgrind.

"Illera, I urge you not to reject Vanir. He is my cousin; his father was my mother's brother. The ruling family cannot endure more…depression. I would wish that you accept Vanir as I have Eragon…"

Illera's eyes betrayed her shock as she whipped around, her eyes wide. "Arya, you must be mistaken. I do not harbor any feelings for Vanir, except for those as a friend!"

"I know this, but you must accept him."

"Why must I!?"

"Vanir has endured much hardship at a young age; younger than even I. His mother died with he was around 20, and his sister…"

"Yes?"

"Disappeared. Ever since he has learned to harden himself, and put a mask of arrogance. Though now it is not so. He loves you, and would do anything to win your hand. He-"

"I seem to recall Eragon saying as much to you," Illera replied coldly, her eyes flashing.

Arya hardened but didn't reply. She knew Illera was angry; that was the only explanation for her to use such a low blow. Usually her honor kept her from that. _I wish she would…she has no reason not to love Vanir. Unless she already loves someone…but no. Illera is too smart for that. Perhaps…we shall see._

--

Illera's ears rang with Arya's words. _Be with Vanir!? I would never! And especially because I already love Murtagh…it cannot ever happen. I won't love Vanir, no matter how much Arya tells me, or threatens me to. Does Eragon know of this? Somehow I don't think so…he understands the true meaning of freedom…unlike someone, _she thought bitterly. _**Peace, little one. Arya is simply concerned for her cousin. **__And not for me? __**Perhaps she believes you will be happy. Remember she does not know of Murtagh. **__Well I sorely miss Murtagh and I will not be with Vanir no matter how much she pleads. It is not her place to tell me what to do. I've only pledged myself to Eragon and Murtagh…surely Eragon wouldn't wish for me to-Vanir-!? __**Little one! PEACE!**_ The vibes thrummed throughout Illera's body and she winced from the force of it.

_Yes? _Illera thought back to her. _**Eragon understands the true meaning of freedom…as you have said. He would not pressure you to love Vanir when he sees it is not very possible. Arya must not have told him yet. **__I sincerely hope not. For Eragon's sake._

Amira didn't respond, just flew faster to catch up to Saphira. Illera dragged a hand through her long hair and didn't say anything else for the way there.

--

Eragon sent to her that he was going to check Helgrind for any entrances first as they were ahead by a mile or so. They twirled around the despicable mountain, Saphira examining thoroughly.

**(from here there is an excerpt from the Third chapter of the Third Book of the Inheritance Cycle) **_Not a hole big enough for a woodrat_, she declared.

Searching again, he noticed something that had eluded him before: a single flower, a gentian, blooming not fifty feet in front of them where, by all rights, there ought to be solid rock. How does it get enough light to live?

Saphira answered his question by perching on a crumbling spur several feet to the right. As she did, she lost her balance for a moment and flared her wings to steady herself. Instead of brushing against the bulk of Helgrind, the tip of her right wing dipped into the rock and then back out again.

_Saphira, did you see that!_  
_  
__**I did.**_

Leaning forward, Saphira pushed the tip of her snout toward the sheer rock, paused an inch or two away—as if waiting for a trap to spring—then continued her advance. Scale by scale, Saphira's head slid into Helgrind, until all that was visible of her to Eragon was a neck, torso, and wings. _**It's an illusion!**_

With a surge of her mighty thews, she abandoned the spur and flung the rest of her body after her head. It required every bit of Eragon's self-control not to cover his face in a desperate bid to protect himself as the crag rushed toward him.

An instant later, he found himself looking at a broad, vaulted cave suffused with the warm glow of morning. Saphira's scales refracted the light, casting thousands of shifting blue flecks across the rock. Twisting around, Eragon saw no wall behind them, only the mouth of the cave and a sweeping view of the landscape beyond. Eragon grimaced. It had never occurred to him that Galbatorix might have hidden the Ra'zac's lair with magic. _Idiot! I have to do better_, he thought. Underestimating the king was a sure way to get them all killed.

Roran swore and said, "Warn me before you do something like that again."

Hunching forward, Eragon unbuckled his legs from the saddle as he studied their surroundings, alert for any danger.

The opening to the cave was an irregular oval, perhaps fifty feet high and sixty feet wide. From there, the chamber expanded to twice that size before ending a good bowshot away in a pile of thick stone slabs that leaned against each other in a confusion of uncertain angles. A mat of powder-gray scratches defaced the floor, evidence of the many times the Lethrblaka had taken off, landed, and walked about thereon. Like mysterious keyholes, five low tunnels pierced the sides of the cave, as did a lancet passageway large enough to accommodate Saphira. Eragon examined the tunnels carefully, but they were pitch-black and appeared vacant, a fact he confirmed with quick thrusts of his mind. Strange, disjointed murmurs echoed from within Helgrind's innards, suggesting unknown things scurrying about in the dark, and endlessly dripping water. Adding to the chorus of whispers was the steady rise and fall of Saphira's breathing, which was overloud in the confines of the bare chamber.

The most distinctive feature of the cavern, however, was the mixture of odors that pervaded it. The smell of cold stone dominated, but underneath it, Eragon discerned whiffs of damp and mold and something far worse: the sickly-sweet fetor of rotting meat.

Undoing the last few straps, Eragon swung his right leg over Saphira's spine, so he was sitting sidesaddle, and prepared to jump off her back. Roran did the same on the opposite side.

Before he released his hold, Eragon heard, amid the many rustlings that teased his ear, a score of simultaneous clicks, as if someone had struck the rock with a collection of hammers. The sound repeated itself a half-second later.

He looked in the direction of the noise, as did Saphira.

A huge, twisted shape hurtled out of the lancet passageway. Eyes black, bulging, rimless. A beak seven feet long. Batlike wings. The torso naked, hairless, rippling with muscle. Claws like iron spikes.

Saphira lurched as she tried to evade the Lethrblaka, but to no avail. The creature crashed into her right side with what felt to Eragon like the strength and fury of an avalanche.

What exactly happened next, he knew not, for the impact sent him tumbling through space without so much as a half-formed thought in his jumbled brain. His blind flight ended as abruptly as it began when something hard and flat rammed against the back of him, and he dropped to the floor, banging his head a second time.

That last collision drove the remaining air clean out of Eragon's lungs. Stunned, he lay curled on his side, gasping and struggling to regain a semblance of control over his unresponsive limbs.

_Eragon! _cried Saphira.

**(End of excerpt) **

**--**

**Haha sorry it's the same cliffie as in the book—just wanted to get this chapter up as fast as I can. You'll be seeing some more stuff when I post again.**

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	24. The Secrets Spilled

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**I'll be gone on vacation from December 7****th**** to the 27****th****, so this is the last update. Please review! Think of this as my Christmas present to you all.**

**--**

_SHIT!_ Amira sped quickly and slammed into the mountain. At least, what they thought was the mountain. The great dragon flew through and hovered in a cavern, where the Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka were tying up Eragon, Vanir, Roran and trying to restrain Saphira. Saphira was roaring and fire billowed from her maw.

Amira hovered as they talked out their attack plan. Suddenly, she released a huge column of fire right above the Ra'zac as she let Illera and Arya off. Drawing their swords they ran over to the men and cut them free. There was another roar, one they thought Saphira had let out. The next thing they knew, Amira had sped towards them and told them to hurry and think of a plan. A jet of red flew past. Eragon's eyes narrowed.

"The Red Rider!" he cried out, and ordered everyone to their positions.

_EVEN MORE SHIT! God couldn't Murtagh be like half a second slower?! _Illera thought furiously as she dragged Roran onto Amira. _Amira take him,, tell him to damage the Ra'zac anyway he can! Guide him! __**I will, what will you do? **__I and Arya will target the other Ra'zac, along with Vanir. _

Amira lifted and roared, fire blasting from her jaw and scorching part of the Lethrblaka. Vanir sent a blast of white magic spiraling into the one of the Ra'zac, blasting off an arm. Above them, Murtagh and Eragon played a vicious game of cat and mouse. Arya leapt up and drove her sword deep into the Lethrblaka's side and tugged it back out, falling. Through the roars of the Lethrblaka, the hisses of the Ra'zac and scorching heat of fire from the dragons it was complete chaos. Illera saw one of the Lethrblaka swoop towards them and dove, dragging both of the elves out of harm's way. She could see Amira and Roran battle one of the Ra'zac. Illera took out her bow and told Arya to do the same. Releasing a volley of arrows, she watched as three of them hit the Lethrblaka's massive wing and several others glance off the side. Arya loosed her arrows as well and Vanir threw blasts of magic into the Lethrblaka's mist. But it was taking its toll; both elves and Rider were feeling a drain on their energy.

Illera motioned for Vanir to stop, "It'll waste your energy before we have begun."

"Have we not already begun?"

She laughed, a cold empty sound as her eyes swept the air above. "No."

--

Amira flew straight at the burned Lethrblaka, loosing a jet of fire at it. As the fire hit it's face head on, it screamed. Roran took the opportunity to smash it's head in and watched satisfactorily as it fell with the Ra'zac on it's back.

_**Nice,**_ Amira said approvingly. Roran smiled grimly. _Thanks,_ he thought back.

Back on the ground, Illera headed towards the fallen Lethrblaka, the Ra'zac screaming beside it. It's eyes glinted malevolently as it moved with inhuman speed towards her. She flicked Aie out of its scabbard and it stopped, glaring at her.

"The Empire ssshall be revenged," it hissed maliciously. "You have causssed your own deathsss," it stated before almost biting her hand off. Illera twisted quickly, Aie flipping over in her hand as she brought it across. Aie only made a small cut in its chest.

The Ra'zac cocked its head. "Not bad…"

He, or it, lunged at her and she backed up quickly. _**ILLERA, DUCK! **_Amira forced her to listen. Roran had thrown a pan-the largest, heaviest pan from the bags on Amira's back. Illera backed up half an inch and waited, calculating exactly where it would fall. The Ra'zac fell perfectly into the trap; the pan hit it directly on the head. As the Ra'zac fell back, dazed, Illera beheaded it with a swipe of Aie. _That was a very interesting technique…__**At least it worked. I didn't think it would. **_Illera smiled grimly. _Kudos to Roran._

--

Above, Murtagh snuck a glance at the ground out of the corner of his eye. One Lethrblaka and Ra'zac were left. _You would think the King's most devoted servants would be better fighters. __**You would. **_Murtagh was forced to stop speaking when Eragon stabbed at him.

"Murtagh, I know you can do this. Fight for your release. You weren't always the King's slave. You survived for eighteen, nineteen years on your own. You can fight off a crazed lunatic. You can do it," Eragon whispered fiercely while he blocked a blow from Murtagh.

Murtagh gritted his teeth. "I can't. He knows our true names…"

"You can still try to fight."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I can't? No matter how hard I try he overpowers me. The only way he wouldn't is if we were deathly injured Eragon. Enjoy your freedom, because it won't last long. It'll end, by his hand or mine."

Eragon didn't respond as they clashed swords. Then in a swift, surprise move, he flipped Zar'roc out of Murtagh's hand and caught the blade. Leaning in, he asked, "What is it between you and Illera?"

--

Vanir sent a jet of fire at the remaining Lethrblaka and Ra'zac pair, seeing it burn a wing. Next to him, Arya loosed four arrows with a _twang_. Amira landed, and Roran slid off.

"I thought you and Amira should be better as a team with the Ra'zac," he told her. Illera nodded, and turned to Arya.

"We'll need another person," she said.

Understanding, Arya climbed up as well. Amira launched herself out, and Illera touched Vanir's mind. _Go find Katrina, and search for any more humans here. __Alright._

Amira crashed into the Lethrblaka, snarling and clawing at it. The Ra'zac on it's back almost severed her arm, but Arya cut it's beak off. Illera stabbed at it while simultaneously trying to keep her balance.

Miraculously, Aie sunk into the Ra'zac's shoulder. Beside her, Arya gracefully leapt onto the Lethrblaka, next to the Ra'zac itself. The Lethrblaka twisted, trying to rid itself of Arya. But by doing so it caused the already unbalanced Ra'zac to fall. Illera whipped her sword around and sliced through its body. Arya smiled and slowly sank her blade into the Lethrblaka's neck, the one soft joint that was the chink in its armor.

_Perfect._ Illera couldn't keep the satisfactory smile on her face from appearing.

Amira landed and told them to search for anything while she made sure the disgusting beasts were dead. Illera took off, leaving Arya no choice but to follow.

--

Murtagh stared at Eragon.

"What do you mean?" he asked neutrally.

"I mean what is she to you? What exactly happened in Uru'baen? Is she a friend or foe to you?"

Murtagh laughed harshly. "Why are you asking me? Why don't you ask her?"

Eragon studied him. "You're avoiding my questions."

"So are you."

"I won't ask her because I respect her own privacy. I don't wish to pry into things that may or may not be painful or things she would forget."

"I see. Then know this. Illera is..." he considered whether or not he should reveal their secret.

"Is what?"

"I love her."

Eragon arched his eyebrow. "That explains much."

Murtagh smiled thinly. "How so?"

"Well it would account for her disappearance that one night. And she was gone again the night after the battle."

"That obvious?"

"Yes." He threw Zar'roc back at Murtagh.

"Galbatorix will be angry," Murtagh said almost carelessly, examining Zar'roc. "I suppose I had better return quickly."

Eragon nodded. "Good luck."

Murtagh acknowledged this as he turned away. "And Eragon?"

"Yes?" Eragon drifted a bit on Saphira.

"Please…don't let Illera get hurt."

--

Illera rammed Aie against the cold steel of a cell lock to free the woman bound inside. Beside her, Roran spoke to his fiancée brokenly, happily. Arya and Vanir had gone on, after seeing the next cell's rotting remains of the Ra'zac's half-finished meal.

"Wait, Roran, step back," Illera freed Aie from the half-severed metal.

Roran reluntantly stepped back from his fiancée.

"Katrina you should step back as well," she stated, examining the steel. Katrina moved backwards, very far from her. Illera suddenly swung at the steel lock, cutting through it with difficulty. She tugged Aie out of its prison and dropped the cut lock to the ground. Katrina rushed outside into Roran's arms.

"You two should go on into the main…place. Where we were fighting. I'll search for more survivors."

They nodded and left.

Illera checked the cells in front of Katrina's and quickly went on. Bones and parts of humans were all that was left.

She caught up with Arya and Vanir, who were staring at a body.

"They're dead…we should move on," Vanir said.

"No, but see, it moved!" Arya insisted.

"Well unless you wish to go in and examine a rotting body, be my guest. It's drafty in here however…the Ra'zac don't, didn't really know what windows are," Illera commented dryly.

Arya didn't respond and moved on. They reached a room where there were five bulbous, pulsing blobs.

"What ARE those??" Vanir asked, disgusted.

Arya sliced one in half with her sword. It popped, releasing a foul smelling odor and a small black thing.

"It would seem they are eggs, to feed the Ra'zac population," she calmly stated.

"Yes. We should obliviate them," Illera murmured and sent a blast of magic at the thing Arya are cut. It screeched just for a second and turned into a blackened mess. Vanir and Arya did the same, throwing jets of magic at the orbs until they exploded.

Illera cocked her head, turned and walked back to the cavern.

Arya followed, immersed in her own thoughts. _We had just so calmly destroyed the last of a species- a race. It was necessary however…the Ra'zac were cruel and evil. But in this war…would the elves be obliviated just so easily? The dwarves? Are we fighting such a hopeless battle, like the eggs against us? _For the first time, Arya was uncertain of what her cause was fighting for.

--

Murtagh writhed on the ground feeling nothing but the fiery pain.

"EXPLAIN TO ME AGAIN! WHY" the king thrust another fierce stroke of pain to Murtagh's mind, "DID" he did it again, "YOU" and again, "FAIL!!!!!"

Murtagh didn't respond. Instead, he forced his energy into taking a shallow breath.

You could almost see the black cloud of furious energy around the petite king as he ravaged through Murtagh's mind. Murtagh screamed as everything was ripped from him; his life, his identity, and his secrets.

Galbatorix was surprised, and amused. "In love with the Purple Rider? Or the _Oriental_ Rider as she likes to be called? How very _weak_ of you Murtagh. I expected better from Morzan's son."

Murtagh didn't respond and fell unconscious. But before the darkness took him he heard one last thing.

"_Find her."_

--

**Hey everyone! I'll probably update one more time…after I get back. D. **

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**Valinor's Twilight: Thanks! Mhm, Arya is quite…dynamic sometimes. And I thought about citing the author at the beginning, but it would've ruined the chapter. I started it in the middle because I wanted all of you to know it wasn't me writing, it was Christopher Paolini. Otherwise, all my notes will be in the front or end of the chapter. **

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	25. Unexpected

**Thanks for the reviews!!!! Happy '08 everyone!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.**

--

The captain spat onto the ground. His men were hungry and thirsty, damn the King to the depths of Hell for sending them to fight again.

"Captain!" a soldier ran up to him.

"Yes?" he snapped.

"Bolloth has found some water over there. It's enough for us to refill!"

The captain smiled grimly. "Good. Take me there."

--

Illera sat a tree stump, meditating. It always helped her calm herself down, and remember what she had to do.

Eragon examined the piece of memory in his mind, probing it for any lies, deceit or false information. Nothing. Murtagh clearly loved her enough that he told Eragon, even at risk of the secret being let out, to keep her safe. _Do you think he knew I would do it?_ Eragon asked Saphira. _**I believe he did what he thought would keep her safe. Would you try and keep her out of danger? **__Yes. But I would not have her oblivious to the face Murtagh has told us. Is it so shocking? __**Somewhat. It makes sense however.**_

He stood up and walked the league or so to Illera's tree stump.

She opened her eyes, sensing him coming.

"Yes?" she asked.

Eragon was unsure of how to say what was on his mind.

"Um, well…Murtagh told me," he blurted out.

She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About…well…the two of you."

She nodded slowly. "I was wondering when you would find out," Illera looked off into the horizon, her eyes thinking.

"I'll keep it between the three of us. It'll do no good for the Varden's spirits if they find out you two are…lovers. However…I ask permission to tell Arya. Such things I cannot keep secret from her for long."

Illera turned her attention back on him. "You may tell Arya…but no one else. It has to be this way…at least until the end of the war."

"Thanks."

"Mhm. Is Katrina alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. Arya and Roran are taking care of her now," he responded.

She nodded. "And Eragon?"

"Yes?" he turned around, facing her.

"Could you tell Arya…when we're flying? I don't want…anyone else to find out."

Understanding flooded his gaze and he nodded. "Ok."

"We fly soon," he added. "Just so you know."

"Ok," she murmured and followed him back to camp.

--

Silently, in the dark shadows of the night, line after line of soldiers marched quietly past, the chain mail of their armor clinking softly. After awhile, the commander called them to a halt, and they set up their camp. Tomorrow would be just another day closer to attacking the rebels that had forced them on this hellish journey in the first place. Everyone looked forward to it.

--

Murtagh thrashed about in burning chains on the slimy dungeon floor. On the other side of the thick, damp gray stone wall, Thorn howled as he felt his Rider's pain. Galbatorix had already left, deciding he had better things to do even to watch his servant's torture. Murtagh let out a fast breath and sucked another one in raggedly. Galbatorix really did seem determined to kill him, or come damn close to it.

_Breathe…in…out…AHHHHH!_ A new blaze of pain burned throughout his body until he felt like he was drowning in it. It just went on…and on…and on…

--

Eragon was trying to get everything packed and onto the dragons. As well as trying to forget about his _brother's_ romance with someone he considered close to becoming his sister.

"Eragon you look stressed," Arya said worriedly, sitting down beside him. "Is anything wrong?"

"I'll tell you later…" Eragon said distractedly.

Arya looked troubled. "Alright."

He met her gaze and said, "I'm obligated to tell you only when we're flying, otherwise I'd tell you now."

She smiled softly. "Ok. Then we should fly soon shouldn't we?"

"Yes exactly." Eragon got Vanir, Roran and Katrina around to climb onto the dragons.

_**Oof bit heavy, **_Amira said teasingly. _**Whose gained weight?**_ Illera's lips curved into a smile. _We just added one thin person! And you say it's heavy? Maybe you need to work out more! __**Of course little one…no dragon has **__**rolls of fat**__**…**__ Hell yeah, all humans do…_Illera laughed. _I missed this, when we could joke around without getting killed. __**Me too little one. Life seemed much easier then. **__What was easy for you was still hard for me. You hatched in times of hardship…and I was born when there was peace. Times were tense…but peaceful. __**Well said.**_

The party took off. After a few moments, Illera felt Eragon's mind rub against hers as he talked to Arya. She winced. _Here it comes…_ Eragon talked to Arya for a couple more minutes then withdrew, going back to his own body. You could almost see the elf's shock.

As she tried to compose herself, Illera just felt like jumping off Amira's back. Seriously.

_Illera is this true?_ Arya's incredulous voice reverberated throughout her mind. _Yes._

_How did this happen!? This…_ Arya berated Illera, who waited it out.

_Yes it did happen, outside of the elves' control. I believe I am my own person. _She couldn't hide her annoyance but kept as calm as she could. _There was nothing anyone could have done._

_HOW Illera! This sets back the Varden greatly! _

_How so? Tell me. _

_You won't fight him, and he will fight you! Do you even know, he has to fight you, Eragon and Ryan at any cost, no matter how much pain it does him! Though you would refuse wouldn't you? Galbatorix is at his height of strength-_ she continued on this vein for some time.

Illera tuned her out.

When she finally stopped, Illera said icily, _Are you done?_

_Yes._

_Good. I would have you know I know everything you have just said, and I have a plan for it. Arya do you remember how you were when you were in love with Faolin? Do you?_

_I do._

_Are you not in love with Eragon now? Do you not think that your romance with his is forbidden?_

_I am. And I do believe that, or at least…I did._

_Then let me be. Please. I don't need your disapproval on top of everyone else's when they find out._

_Is this why you would not accept Vanir?_

_Partly. I feel nothing for him Arya, except for those as a friend. I think you know this._

_I do but you cannot deny his heartbreak. He does not need this._

_Arya I'm not going to change my mind. Guilt tripping me isn't going to work. _

_I understand._

_Please don't tell anyone._

_I won't. But Illera, this does not have my approval._

Arya left her mind to brood on it.

_Please Amira…please fly faster…I want to get off and away from this…__**We will be there. Not soon but just as well. It will take us a day and a half with this wind,**_ Amira tilted slightly, so the wind would help her glide. _**Of course…if this wind stops…it will take longer. **__Damn. I feel something bad is about to happen…like a black cloud on an otherwise perfect day, off in the distance. __**You're so dramatic. **__Thank you. I feel it befits the occasion. __**Of course you did.**_

For the first time in a long time, both Dragon and Rider were carefree. Partially, at least.

--

Over on Saphira, Eragon remained worried. Vanir and Roran both hadn't spoken for sometime, leaving each man to think. _I was right in telling Arya was I not? Illera had told me I could…and yet what must she be facing? Contempt, shock?_ His stomach twisted. _Was I right Saphira? __**I believe it was the best thing you could have done. Illera had told you that you could tell Arya, and with Illera's approval you just needed to tell her. **__I don't know, I just wish…I could have, I don't know, softened the blow or something. I mean, of course it was going to be a shock! The Rider we were just learning to accept turns out to be having a love affair with our enemy. But Murtagh cannot truly be evil if Illera loves him right? __**I feel that...I trust Illera. And you trust Murtagh do you not? His actions at Helgrind, asking us to protect Illera was enough to prove he still cares. He also spared us. **__That all is true. I hope Arya is taking it well. But of course. It is Arya. She must be taking it well._

That was probably the most ironic sentence Eragon had ever uttered in his life.

--

Back at the Varden sometime later, Ryan rubbed his temples as he sat in his chair in the Council. Since Eragon, Illera and Arya were gone; his opinion was the one that mattered most. Out of all the Riders, it was Ryan the Varden trusted most because he had been in the fighting for some time before he became Rider.

Nasuada shuffled some papers around and read off of one, "Scouts have seen some smoke coming from near a village northeast of the border. Elves have also reported marching. We have dispatched more scouts to scope it out. So far, we have no information on this. Opinions?" she looked up.

"Perhaps some people are joining us!" someone called out from further down.

Nasuada didn't look moved. "Perhaps. Any others?"

Ryan decided to offer something. "It may be more troops, from the Empire."

_**I doubt that,**_ Spitfire snorted. _**The Empire just lost. **__I doubt it too. I just needed to look more involved._

Spitfire chuckled quietly. _**I see.**_

A roar shook the room. Outside, it was mass confusion. Jormundur was interrupted and everyone rushed outside. _**WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. WE ARE UNDER FUCKING ATTACK!!**_ _YES I KNOW BLOCKHEAD! ARE YOU READY? WE HAVE TO TIME FOR ARMOR! JUST WARDS and FIRE! UNDERSTAND? __**YES I DO NOW HURRY UP!**_

Ryan ran into his tent, pulling the heavy armor onto him and muttered the smooth, heavy words of the ancient language and watched as clear panes of magic encased him and Spitfire. He felt at his side. _Good. _Gulai was in it's sheath. _**You do realize if you don't change my color or something, if there are survivors they'll know about us?**__ Yes! We'll have to change to blue. Sorry you'll have to be Saphira, but don't think you'll mind and Eragon's a guy. Like me. So easier. __**Alright. **_

The lean teen concentrated and almost forgot the word for blue. " S'dil du Skulblaka eon…" his voice faltered.

_**LAPIS!!!!!!!**_

"S'dil du Skulblaka eon lapis."

At once, the emerald green of Spitfire turned from teal, to blue-green, then blue.

_Ready?_ Ryan asked, leaping onto his back. _**Yes. Let's go kick some royal ass!!**_

--

**End of another chapter! Sorry to keep you guys waiting, -hides in shame.-**

**1Change this dragon to blue.**

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	26. Return

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**--**

Illera woke up early, something troubling her. _Amira we need to get back fast. For one, Katrina needs to get some real rest, food, and treatment. And I have a weird…feeling…thing._

She woke the others, who were ready for a long day flying. As they flew, Illera couldn't help noticing a smudge on the sky, where they were going to fly.

_The Varden are fighting? _She asked Amira.

_**Most likely not. Perhaps just a fire.**_

_An accident?_

_**Probable.**_

_Or perhaps Spitfire sneezed, _Illera said dryly.

_**Most likely,**_Amira chuckled.

They flew for hours, not stopping. Eragon was apparently eager to get back to the Varden for his own reasons. And then, commotion occurred. Ahead of them, they could see the battle, and they landed quickly.

"Roran, Saphira will take you and Katrina to the Healers! Get her there and start fighting! We will fight now!" Even as he spoke, the rest of them were climbing into their armor rapidly.

_Ready Amira?_ Illera asked grimly.

_**Ready as ever.**_

"Stick together!" Eragon shouted as they plunged into the fray.

Arya, Vanir and Eragon fought in a triangle, each of their backs to each other as they took on the enemy soldiers.

_Let us find Ryan, and alert him that we are fighting here and are back. _

_**Affirmative, captain,**_ Amira thought, teasing, before spying…blue?!

_Saphira can't be back already! _Illera thought before reaching out with her mind to find Ryan's.

_Illera?_ He thought incredulously. _Back so soon?_

_Yes, and we're fighting over there. Why is Spitfire blue?_

_We had to pretend to be Saphira. _

_I see. Well I'll fight with you, Saphira should be back soon. _

_How did it go?_ He asked as Illera chopped off someone's head.

_As well as it could have. We'll fill you in later._

_Ok._

Amira roared, sending a row of flame over the Empire's soldiers. _**Do they never learn? They are not fireproof, and one of our breaths destroys a row of them. **_

_Possibly, but we cannot last forever. The Varden, I mean. _

_**That is true.**_

Illera beheaded another man and Amira sliced one into thirds with a swipe of her claws.

_Bloodthirsty are we today Amira?_ Illera asked lightly as she stabbed someone in the chest.

_**Of course not little one,**_ Amira showed her teeth and threw another soldier into a cannon.

_**We should disable the cannons,**_Amira suddenly suggested.

_We should. Hacking the mechanism then throwing it into their ranks should do it._

Illera sliced the leather straps holding the cannon and Amira grasped it with her claws, flying upwards. Then she dropped it with a crash on three soldiers. She blew a tongue of fire at them for good measure.

_Nice job,_ Illera said, slitting a man's throat.

_**Thank you little one,**_ Amira grinned wolfishly.

Suddenly Vanir and Arya appeared, followed by Eragon on Saphira.

"Where's Ryan?" Eragon yelled, plunging his blade into a man about to kill Arya.

"Right behind you!" Illera shouted. The dragons roared and roasted about fifty men.

Vanir whirled around and thrust his sword right above Illera's shoulder--right into a soldier.

"Saved you that time," he murmured eyes intense.

She couldn't say anything, apart from, "You did." _It's so uncomfortable Amira… _

_**I know. There is nothing however, that you can do now. Concentrate on the battle!**_

_Yes ma'am._

The Varden were losing. It was easy to see. Unprepared by the suddenness of this attack, the humans were sorely depending on the elves, dwarves and Riders.

And yet, even elves, dwarves and Riders tire.

Eragon swore sharply when he realized the numbers of the Empire were taking its toll.

"Illera, we are going to burn them," he said with an odd glint in his eyes. "It's the only way we can win the battle."

Illera nodded and told Ryan.

The three of them took off, leaving burning bodies where they flew overhead.

"D'you have a plan?" Ryan shouted.

"Ask Eragon!!" Illera screamed back.

Ryan repeated the question and Eragon answered, "Just burn all of them!!"

_**Crude, but well worth it**_, Amira laughed her cough-like laugh.

Illera smiled grimly as the dragons released a huge mass of fire that destroyed at least two or three hundred men.

_Well worth it indeed._

_**We cheat…for a good cause.**_

_Right._

Eragon suddenly pried into her mind. _I think they have a limited supply of troops! Though they are still winning. How did this happen?_

_The Varden were not prepared,_ Illera answered, shooting an official with a bolt of magic.

_Nasuada really must do something about that._

_Yes._

Saphira and Spitfire roasted another platoon of soldiers, leaving Amira to burn another group. Throughout their onslaught, volleys of arrows continued to bombard them, only to be stopped as their wards held firm.

_Goddamn!_ Illera swore as she felt her energy drain considerably and reduced the wards.

The dragons were practically burning the whole plain the rate they were going. The scent of charred bodies filled the air, stifling both armies.

From the ground, Arya conveyed to Illera, _The Empire seems to be ceasing fire. From what Orik tells me there weren't very many in the first place. Keep burning, and it'll end the battle soon._

_How did this happen?_ Illera asked, shooting a couple more soldiers with her arrows.

_The Empire wants vengeance. I notice the other Rider is not here—perhaps that may have something to do with it. _Arya's voice was neutral.

_Perhaps._

The afternoon dragged onwards as Nasuada sent the humans driving viciously into Empiric ranks. Soon, the army of red and black thinned and the dragons dispatched the rest. Landing, the Riders headed for Nasuada's tent. The leaders were already there, still bloody.

Eragon was furious. "WHAT happened?!" he demanded, anger hissing out of his voice.

Nasuada looked bleak but calm. "A surprise attack. No one was prepared—we had no warning."

"Do you not have scouts?" Ryan demanded.

Nasuada pursed her lips. "Some men did not return after we dispatched them."

"That explains it," Illera said sarcastically. "So now we have extremely low human numbers, thousands of casualties, an unknown number of total troops and no idea when Galbatorix will strike?"

Nasuada narrowed her eyes. Illera knew she had gone too far, but now the situation was desperate and bleak. Unless several dozen villages joined the Varden, they barely cleared five hundred humans. Eragon looked grim, as if about to reprimand her but thought better of it.

"You forget Surda is backing us in this Rider Illera!" Jormundur barked out, looking significantly irritated at the brutal reminder of the slim chances of survival.

Arya said softly, yet dangerously, "That isn't enough."

"No, we need more recruits. But that should be simple enough," a pudgy woman proposed. "I believe a group of elves and dwarves should go around to villages and recruit. Many of the dwellings, like Carvahall will be deprived of food and basic necessities. The Empire has, on top of everything, raised tax prices even higher. There should not be much trouble recruits."

"And who should go and speak for the Varden?" Eragon asked.

Nasuada's eyes glinted. "I will have to speak to King Orrin, Queen Islanzadi and the dwarf clans. They should be appointing a new dwarf king soon."

They went back and forth, arguing about security, the army, what the Varden was going to do next—everything.

Illera and Ryan sat bored as their eyes nearly glazed over. _**It is so deathly important—yet you do not pay any attention!**_ Amira scolded._It's so boring…they are just politely ripping each other to shreds. __**That may be true but it is still important. **__Yes, I should be listening. But it's impossible._ Amira chuckled lightly before turning her attention to the raging debate.

--

Eragon's anger was just slipping away as the leaders proposed solutions for their problems. He demanded that they do so immediately, and walked out. He could feel Arya and the other two Riders follow, and that only Arya remained with him.

Eragon exhaled. "Arya," he smiled softly as he reached his tent.

She inclined her head. "Eragon," she teased lightly.

He stripped off his armor, piling it into a heap of bloody metal.

Then he sat down, head in his hands.

"How did this happen Arya? So many lives lost—because the Varden hadn't investigated in a few scouts' deaths."

She tentatively put her arms around him. "This is a major drawback," she murmured.

"How did Nasuada become so…so _careless_?" Eragon asked, tugging Arya down next to him.

"I know not," Arya admitted, brushing her hair out of her face.

Eragon looked at her, studying her face with an odd expression on his face, of fierce love, tenderness and an overwhelming instinct to protect her.

Arya noticed this and cupped his face gently, her black hair framing both of their faces.

"Everything will work out fine," she murmured, never dropping her eyes from his.

"And if it doesn't?" he answered back, leaning in closer.

"I'll still have you," Arya whispered, touching his lips with her own.

--

Ryan sat down, Illera opposite him. After the rather depressing talk of the battle, Arya had gone off with Eragon and they hadn't felt the need to follow.

"So what happened?" Illera asked him finally, cleaning off her armor with several well-chosen words.

He shook his head. "I was conferring with the leaders, and then a huge bang shook the room. Spitfire told me to get the hell out of there to fight, so I did. And then about halfway through the battle, you guys show up."

Illera nodded distractedly. "I see."

"Did you destroy the Ra'zac?" Ryan asked, cleaning off his own armor.

"Yeah. Successful. I expect Katrina and Roran are getting her settled in," Illera answered, then stood up. "I'm going to get back to my tent alright? See you in the morning."

"See you."

Illera walked off and wondered really, whether they would survive.

--

**Bleh. Hated writing this chapter. Thoughts?? By the way, the third Eragon book's name with have Glaedr on it, a gold/yellow book. It'll be called Brisingr. **

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	27. Insight

A New Hope-Chapter 27

**Thanks for the reviews!!!! So sorry I didn't update soon. There's another A/N at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize. **

**--**

It had been decided. Arya, Vanir, Orik and a small group of other officials were going to head up the west coast of Alagaesia, reaching Kuasta, Belatona, Feinster, Melian, Therinsford, Narda, and Darat before turning back with the new recruits, if any. The recruits were to be told to bring everything they could, horses, oxen, pigs; everything. They would need it on the journey there and back. Meanwhile, Trianna's group of seamstresses and wizards were still manufacturing silk and lace, to raise funds. Trianna and two elves named Rwoanda and Monar were to follow them, albeit more slowly, to sell the cloth and lace in disguise. The gold would buy more supplies and such.

Eragon was not that pleased with the plan. Even though Arya constantly reassured him that she was not 'one of your helpless human females', he didn't feel completely at rest to think she would be so far from him. And the Spine! They would cross the Spine; where the attack that had imprisoned Arya had begun it all.

Arya herself was packing for the trip. So many fighters would accompany them in case the king caught wind of their plan and send troops from the nearest city to destroy them.

Which was highly likely. King Orrin was to head back to Surda to conscript more troops; the dwarves were to as well.

Roran and Katrina were planning their wedding, hurriedly set for a month away. It wasn't going to be an extremely luxurious wedding; nor did the times call for one. The whole village of Carvahall were busy attending to the details of it to make sure everything was perfect, or as close as they could get.

Life was tense nowadays, as recruits gradually trickled in after hearing about Eragon and perhaps Illera. The two companies were to set off today, which was where Illera and the other two Riders found themselves, seeing them off.

"Hurry back," she heard Eragon mutter discreetly to Arya, who nodded before shouldering her pack and setting off with the others.

Nasuada and the other leaders watched as the band of people departed, hoping for them to arrive home safely with more recruits. It was their only chance of survival.

And so, as the groups disappeared into tiny smudges, the leaders turned their backs. The dwarf clans began discussing a new king.

--

Back in the castle, Murtagh still lay in the dungeon, dried blood hanging thickly around him. Separated from his dragon, Thorn's enraged roars, fire and repeated body slams did the castle walls no damage. He sucked in a breath shakily, propping himself up against the wall painstakingly. Galbatorix hadn't held back this time, unleashing his full fury upon the younger Rider who had lain there for at least two days.

He flinched as a cut reopened.

_Illera…_

He forced himself to breathe in painstakingly slowly so he wouldn't aggravate his broken ribs. The dark brown, nearing on black, of his hair was matted with blood, and stiff when he raised his hand to shake it away.

_I need…to heal…_

Murtagh dragged himself a few feet, then collapsed as his ribs sent a flame of pain through his body.

_Thorn…_

He was cut off from everyone he cared about, and who cared about him. So one of them was currently trying to break the castle he was imprisoned in down…and the other thousands of miles away trying to defeat his lord.

Life was fantastic.

--

Illera took off running towards the smidge of forest on the horizon. She was tired of it all—the emotions, the dilemma, hell, even of life! So she kept on running.

Everything she had been thinking of dropped from her mind one by one when she kept going, hair flying out behind her. Illera reached the forest, then decided to continue towards the lake she had saw.

It felt good to be leaving all the crap behind. But it felt worse to know she would have to return to it in a few hours. Illera dropped onto a large flat rock and gazed at the calm still lake.

It would feel amazing when this was over and done with.

--

Arya and her group had been traveling for the better part of the day now and decided that they should set up camp.

Orik came over to her.

"How has Eragon been?" he asked casually, but giving her a wink that signaled he knew about their relationship.

"Oh, perfectly well," she answered just as casually, not showing the way her heart sped up.

"Ah. How fare his attempts to find a solution for the Varden?"

The elven maid sighed. "Tis not an easy task, you and I both know."

"Have the other Riders helped or found a way?"

"No."

"Barzul!" he exclaimed. "This war will sap us of our strength and of our resources if we are not careful. It must end soon."  
'It must," she answered softly.

--

Eragon had given up trying to find a solution. Such was not his task. Now, he was reduced to flying on the back of Saphira, in his own thoughts. It seemed everyone was lost in their thoughts didn't it? Now all he hoped was that both groups would have a safe and successful journey…lest they all be killed.

_**Little one, must your thoughts all be so dark and twisted? **_Saphira teased.

He grinned. _No. But it is better to have expected it than to have been caught utterly off guard. _

_**That is true, and yet, such a life is not for us, to expect everything and be scared of it,**_ she gently chided.

_I'm not scared!_

_**Which would explain your intense worry for Arya.**_

_Well…Saphira you understand do you not? If Spitfire had to leave, you would understand my worry would you not?_

……_**I would. And yet, Arya is not helpless. She is strong, and many experienced fighters are with her.**_

_But what if? What if Galbatorix sent troops to there just for…I do not know, precaution? And they happened upon our band? Tis…would be dreadful!_

_**Dreadful as it may be, you are beginning to sound like a hysterical fishwife. Do stop.**_

_Alright. But my worry is justified?_

_**Yes. Yes it is,**_ Saphira said dryly.

--

Ryan had seen Illera take off running and briefly thought about telling Eragon. But, he reasoned, Illera could take care of herself. To tell Eragon—add another burden to him—was not right. So he kept it to himself when she came back, looking rather tired.

He knocked on her room softly, and entered.

She looked up. "Ryan…what can I help you with?"

"Nothing. Just remember, everyone would need to vent. You need friends for that…and to keep your sanity," he offered her a crooked smile. "You realize?"

She was staring out of the window, face an emotionless mask as she sighed. "I realize. Yet this is not so easy."

"What?"

She waved her hand. "This. This whole _war_. I wish…I wish that this would end. Much sorrow and devastation has already occurred…"

Ryan touched her hand. "It will end, and we will be the ones to stop it," he murmured. "And I will be proud to say that I fought alongside the people I did."

--

Amira flew noiselessly, landing on a rather tall, craggy hill that overlooked the Varden's headquarters. And if a dragon could sigh, she did. Then she started a pretend conversation with Thorn…what she would say to him if she could.

_Thorn…how I miss you so. Perhaps you could guide both I and Illera…she is in much turmoil…what I would give to see her with Murtagh and stable and happy again. But for us, 'tis too much to ask. Instead…I hope now your lives are just a bit easier, and able to survive if not content. I know not what Galbatorix would do to you or Murtagh for his continued 'failures'…and I would give him my many thanks for keeping Illera alive. _

_How fare you?_

--

Illera sat at the edge of the lake, staring blankly and dwelling on her past. To try and remember happier times…when life wasn't so cold and gave no joy. Hell, nothing gave joy anymore. Nothing she could reach. Her fingers ran themselves through her hair, effectively destroying the neat state it had been in as her eyes closed. Damn, this wasn't going over so good.

A bitter smile made its way across her face. It wasn't as if she didn't know what was wrong with her. She'd be completely stupid if she didn't. _I miss him,_ she admitted softly to herself. _Who knew this would be so…painful…_her thoughts dragged. No, she decided stonily. She had to be strong, to survive. It was the least she could do for…_Murtagh_.

She couldn't. It hurt too much to stay strong, and keep the tears inside. _Because I'm a fucking coward,_ she thought miserably.

But she already knew that.

--

Nasuada frowned at the papers scattered about her desk and sighed, filing one or two away. The lines on her forehead had grown in the short amount of time she'd had. How had that important, obvious clue forgone her? How hadn't she noticed three spies gone, never to return? Was she getting distracted? By what? So many questions, and Nasuada didn't know how to answer even one of them.

She rubbed her eyes as someone knocked on the door and expelled a breath irritably.

"Come in!" she called.

A dwarf came in. "I come with a message from the dwarf clans."

Her eyes brightened. "Yes, about?"

"We shall declare the new King tomorrow. It is about time."

"Indeed. Where shall the ceremony take place? We are not at Farthen Dur."

"We shall hold in the valley over the edge. It is a suitable place."

"I will make note of it. Is that all?"

The dwarf nodded curtly and excused himself.

Nasuada grinned. Finally, something was going right.

--

**Hi guys!...-waits for attack-…heheh…sorry about not updating!!! Had a bit of writer's block on my other stories and I like to update them all before the next chapter, and so on. Swear it won't take me this long next time!! So…what do you think?? Do tell!**

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**Arya 4 ever: Thanks! Battle scenes are hard to write, because they have to be so intense. Another reviewer suggested I put in the Eragon/Arya thing, and so glad I did! This is why I need reviews :D. Yes, now Illera, Ryan and Eragon and sort of in this group seeing as everyone sees them as idols. So, they're tight!**

**Pickle99me: Nice to see you again! Thanks so much!! Amira breathed fire when they were with the dragons, however I didn't describe that scene sorry : (. Lol, you caught the characters exactly! And yes, Murtagh is definetly a favorite with lots of people : ). Hmm, an ending is on the far-ish near horizon (sorry for the oxymoron :D). There's definetly a lot more to the story that I haven't covered. And I'll definetly tell you what I think of Brisingr! Can't wait : ) **

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	28. Sworn In

Undin was the new King of Dwarves

**Thanks for the reviews! From now on the chapters should get longer, just to be nicer cause they take so long right now (sorry!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**--**

Undin was the new King of Dwarves. Eragon was glad, because he knew the king was just and was more than savvy enough to work the dangerous politics that came with nobility. Of course, the information was top secret and everyone still had to go to the coronation ceremony.

_Saphira…_

_**Yes little one?**_

_I keep thinking of Angela's prophecy. We—I…will never again stand in Alagaesia. How? To defeat Galbatorix seemed horrendous enough...Also, what is the weapon we're supposed to find? Then we must go to the rock of Kuthian and speak our names to open the Vault of Souls. How much more ominous can our future be?_

_**Do not think this way. No matter how far we must go…know we have friends who will help ease the burden. **_

_Sometimes I feel there is a spy within the Varden…ready to flee at a moment's notice and run into Galbatorix's _hand_. _

_**And who do you suppose…**_

_I do not know._

_**Then it is nothing to worry about now. **_

--

Arya sighed. It was only the fourth day of recruiting, yet she felt despondent that so few had answered. Only ten people had come, newcomers' belongings pooled together equaled three sacks of grain, two horses, an oxen, a sack of dried meat, various knives and a sword and assorted herbs. However, considering they had only gotten to one town, it was pretty good.

Orik grunted, sitting heavily next to her.

"Good haul we had. Especially that one's a doctor and another one is a cook," he grinned.

Arya nodded. "How do you think King Orrin is doing?"

"Considering he only brought half of his troops here, considerably well. But the final battle is yet to come."

"Is yet to come…" Arya let out a breath.

--

Ryan was thinking hard about another way to bring down the Empire. _So…if direct force can't be used—and we're running low on supplies—wouldn't it make sense to cause confusion by destroying select factors? Such as a commander…definetly not Galbatorix, no, that would be impossible until the final battle. Kill nobles perhaps, that wield some significant power. What think you?_

_**It is a good plan. However…only the stealthy and the strong can attempt. Otherwise, you would fail and security would be tightened even more.**_

_Yes, so we should kill all of the leaders in one go? That's not possible._

_**No, perhaps kill select few in every city. The ones who are the most influential and hold the most power. **_

_Perhaps. I will bring it up with Eragon._

_**Good to do so. Especially now, with the Varden badly crippled.**_

_Yes._

--

Far away, a man clad in the red uniform of the Sun Rays slipped past the other two guards. The one he was supposed to defend was already in the dungeon, for god knows how long. _If the Red Rider truly isn't evil, would he not be our only hope? I know, know of the rumors circulating the Blue and Purple riders…but what if they failed? What if the rumors are not true? The only one we know for sure is the Red rider. Also, weren't there rumors of the king becoming weaker and the Red rider stronger? Well… as father always said, help your masters as much as possible, for you don't know when they will choose to reward you._ _And the only reason I work for the empire is because it pays well…more so the Red Rider. I haven't forgotten when Father—_his thoughts cut off. His father had been murdered when he had served the King a glass of unsatisfactory red wine.

He strode to the back of the room, where Murtagh was slumped backwards on the wall. Silently, he winced at the sight of all the dried blood; he was squeamish. The rider cracked an eye open.

"Theodore?" he rasped out.

Theodore let the younger man lean on his shoulder for support.

"I'll get the head healer…just have to get you to your rooms…"

He stumbled forward, the Rider hanging heavily off his shoulder, and took the slow steps out of the door.

Once out, he ordered the other two Sun Rays to take the rider to his rooms while he got the head healer. Hurrying down to the hospital, he explained his dilemma to a nurse, who summoned the healer. Theodore led the woman to where his master lay on his bed.

The healer sighed. "Much of his torture lay inside the mind. There is not much I can do, except for heal the wounds on his body."

"Then how was he bleeding so much?" Theodore challenged.

"I cannot say, I haven't examined him thoroughly," the woman began healing.

Theodore watched as the cuts on the Rider's body sealed when the woman's hand passed over them. _Magic…how they control our lives, the ones who cannot use it effectively. Perhaps I will offer my services to the Rider…if I stay here, I cannot have my revenge on Galbatorix. Who in heaven's name kills a man for not giving you the right wine? Yes, I'll do that. I only wish I knew what I am agreeing to do._

--

Eragon was re-reading a scroll he had taken with him from Ellesmera, one of the greatest poems in elven history. Some times it paid to relax, even when you felt you couldn't.

He heard someone approach his tent and manage to knock on the fabric.

"Come in!"

_How did they knock on tent material?_ Eragon wondered.

_**Possible they knocked on some other hard thing.**_

_That would explain it._

"Ryan!" he greeted.

Ryan managed a grin. "So, O leader of Shur'tugal," his grin grew wider, "I've a suggestion, for what to do while the recruitment parties go on."

"Oh? Do enlighten," Eragon put away his scroll.

"I was thinking to assassinate some leaders of towns, the ones who's deaths will be crippling to the Empire. What think you?"

He thought it over. _Saphira?_

_**I do think it is a good idea. Normally I wouldn't agree, but this…we have a desperate situation, no? I think it calls for this. And it would save us the pain of a possible rebellion later on.**_

_I thought it would be good, but my honor prevents me from doing that. It is not a bad idea, just leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. _

_**Desperate times call for desperate measures. I believe this will help us bring down the Empire.**_

_Then we agree?_

_**Aye.**_

"Saphira sees no harm in it," Eragon replied to Ryan. "I'll have to tell Nasuada—but we will carry it out anyways. With three Riders, we are already a separate organization working with the Varden.

"Aye. And I will hunt for a few names and cities."

"Good man."

Ryan left.

Eragon sighed and rose from the chair in search for the leader of the Varden.

He reached her tent nearby and tried to knock, but ended up tapping his boot on the dirt ground.

"Come in," Nasuada said distractedly.

"Nasuada," he bowed.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Ryan had an idea," he started explaining the whole thing.

Nasuada thought it over.

"And I only agree to it because it'll help cut down on rebellion and then it will be harder for Galbatorix to muster troops,' he said. "But it is dishonorable, assassination."

"At this point, we'll be doing whatever it takes," Nasuada said finally. "Take the Riders and destroy our threats."

Eragon bowed. "As well. I will be considering names."

"Go."

Eragon left the tent to go talk with Ryan and Illera.

He found Ryan deep in talk with Orik.

"Nasuada says that it is possible. I ask you to find some names, but for now, everyone must go to the coronation of the dwarves' next king."

They nodded.

"I'll go find Illera. Meet you in the valley," he added.

Ryan and Orik left, still talking about names and cities.

Eragon reached out with his mind to look for Illera. She was already in the valley.

He strode towards her quickly.

"Illera!" he called out, causing her to turn her head quickly. She headed towards him.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

"Ryan's had the idea to assassinate select figureheads in the cities—the ones whose deaths will be troublesome to Galbatorix—you follow?"

She nodded. "And I assume it'll be us killing them?"

"Yes. But Ryan will first figure out who to kill and their locations before we progress."

"Alright."

Before they could say any more, Orik was to make a speech in honor of King Hrothgar.

"There is no one such as I," he began, "that feels the death of King Hrothgar more than I. When my father and mother had died, he took me in and gave me a home. I have lived as such for years. He introduced me to my wife," here he smiled tearfully at her, "and gave me a job working for him. He ruled the dwarves fair and just as you all know, wise and powerful. I can speak from truth as I say he would not have wanted to be murdered as he was—more to face an honest foe and be struck down. For King Hrothgar!" Orik raised his fist.

Everyone followed his action, faces made solemn.

The leaders of the thirteen clans stepped forward.

"We would like to present to you, the new dwarven king, King Undin!"

Undin stepped forward bravely much to the applause of the crowd.

"Do you, Undin Sledgeforger, take on the responsibilities of being a King of the Dwarves?" one of the leaders began.

"I do."

"Do you pledge to sacrifice your body and mind to the better of the Dwarven Nation?"

"I do."

"Do you swear on your soul to rule kindly, justly and powerfully as befitting a Dwarven King?"

"I do."

"Do you promise to treat any, be it a babe or a worn dwarf, as one?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to reign with honor?"

"I do."

"Do you give the Dwarven Nation your word that you will strive to once again see the glory we once had?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to refrain from activities not befitting you?"

"I do."

"Do you vow that you will not use your position as king to abuse others?"

"I do."

"Do you undertake the task of upholding liberty and peace?

"I do."

"Do you accept the fact that despite being king, you are able to be prosecuted for any crime?"

"I do."

"Do you pledge to treat any who come to us goodly and give them shelter?"

"I do."

"Do you vow not to use any in the Dwarven Treasury for yourself?"

"I do."

"Do you promise in facing death, die nobly as befitting?"

"I do."

And so Undin was sworn in.

The Riders went up to congratulate him when the rest of the crowds had disappeared.

"I congratulate you on ascending the Dwarven Throne and hope you live long and well, and rule justly," Eragon said formally.

Saphira added, _**I bless the throne with dragon's luck and hope your reign is a golden one.**_

Islanzadi murmured, "Eragon-finiarel has said it all. I will aid you in our attempt to overthrow the Black King."

Nasuada added, "I expect that your rule will be long and good, as Hrothgar's before you."

Undin managed a smile. "Thank you all."

**--**

**OK so a little shorter than other chapters will be, but working on length and HAD to get this out. Hope you liked it! Leave some reviews!! (I update stories based on feedback…just so ya know! People are still waiting after a month!) **

**Review Responses: (YAY SO MANY!!)**

**Ryder Blade: Lol yes, I was trying to make him seem more human (now that he's half elf). Hope you liked it!**

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	29. The Long Road

A New Hope

Chapter 29

**Thanks for the reviews!! So sorry I haven't been updating (hides in shame). **

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.**

**Enjoy!!**

--

Eragon, now black haired and plumper than he had been, drew the string of his bow back to his eye, waiting patiently for the perfect time to strike. They were in Dras-Leona, three weeks since Undin had been crowned the Dwarven King. Their purpose was to assassinate the man who ruled the city, and a few high priests who prayed to their sick mountain. Eragon was staking out the leader, a cowardly greedy man, Illera the High Priest, Ryan; a war leader. Things were somewhat smooth; Illera had gotten annoyed and killed a man who had leered at her. They'd caused something of a fuss, so she'd turned invisible and met them near the middle of the city, much to Eragon's disapproving eyes.

The man Eragon was watching shifted—he was one of the many guards surrounding the leader; Marcus Tabor's successor, Johan Bochenora. A tiny slit of light let the Rider see Johan just beyond. If only he would move a little more…

The guard, oblivious to Eragon's impatience walked over to the other side of Bochenora, to switch with another man.

_**Now!**_ Saphira watched from Eragon's eyes. She and the other two dragons were waiting anxiously around the perimeter of Dras-Leona.

Eragon let the arrow loose, watching it speed into Bochenora's chest. He crumpled; instantly dead and Eragon took off running.

_Tell Amira I've gotten Johan, and to tell Illera there's going to be mass confusion. I'll relay to Ryan._

Reaching out to find a blocked off mind, he made it known to Ryan that it was him.

_I've killed Johan—hurry and kill your war leader. I'm heading out—there will be instantly tightened security measures._

_**Got it.**_

Eragon sped away from the city as people closed in on the path he'd just taken.

--

Saphira relayed the message to Amira, who told Illera, now short and blonde. _**Saphira says Eragon has killed the leader, and for you to hurry because everyone will panic and security will be tightened. **_

_OK. Be right there._

The man she was watching, Gilerd Machestern was conducting some other evil rights or another. Unfortunately for her, another idiot was standing right behind him, where she was supposed to hit.

_Fuck this. I can kill them both with a good shot, with some strength._

She drew an arrow, pulling it back until the string threatened to snap, and let go.

If she had stayed to watch, it had gone straight through both men and cracked the altar. By the time someone had gone to the dead men and examined them, she was halfway to Amira.

--

At the same time the high priest was killed, a newly red headed and bearded Ryan was contemplating how to assassinate the war leader, in a popular bar. Assassinate. He liked that word; it gave him some relieve of the guilt of murder. He tugged at his beard uncomfortably. _This red color is disgusting. I'll be glad when I can change it back to that black brown._

Spitfire snorted, scuffling around. _**Would you hurry up already? I can see in two parts of the city there's mass confusion. Your man will disappear soon.**_

_Yeah ok._

Ryan formed a ball of magic in his hand—invisible, instant death. With a whispered word, he sent it crashing into the war leader. He fell over, knocking others and chairs down around him. To others, he had simple collapsed; a heart attack perhaps. Ryan turned his back on the scene and started off to Spitfire.

--

Eragon's smile was lopsided. "So, three leaders dead. Where to now?"

Illera contemplated the question. "Really, I think here and Gil'ead are the only places with significant people who wield much power. Most of the other cities, towns or villages are isolated, like Kuasta, or quite insignificant. Mind you, Teirm isn't any of the two, just there aren't many leaders there are they?"

_**Then, who are the ones in Gil'ead? There, isn't it all military barracks?**_ Spitfire asked.

Ryan remained silent.

"Well, it is," Eragon answered, "But then wouldn't Galbatorix's army leaders be there to supervise training?" he waggled his eyebrows.

Illera laughed at the sight. "They would, yes, but some would also be in Uru'baen, correct?"

_**I would imagine there be considerably important officials in Gil'ead, to carry out training. We know there are five major army leaders, the General, Admiral Lewis, Captain Dawson, Senior Advisor Mandera, and Junior Secretary Black, **_Saphira contributed.

Amira frowned, as much as a dragon could. _**What is the General's name?**_

"Just the General," Eragon answered. "His name is unknown."

Spitfire snorted. _**Humans. Trying to stir up more fear than they can muster.**_

Ryan answered, "That's how Galbatorix stirred up so much fear in the first place. Anyways, I'm a bit tired, going to get some sleep now."

Illera murmured an alright; Eragon muttered goodnight.

Ryan set out his sleeping bag under Spitfire's wing and disappeared.

Illera leaned back against a hard rock. "Ryan seemed quiet, don't you think?" she asked casually.

Eragon shrugged. "You could tell he didn't like killing people in secret. It's not honorable."

"We've been over this; it's a way to survive. I don't fancy getting myself killed."

"Yes, well I'm going to turn in too. 'Night," Eragon rolled out his sleeping bag and settled into it as Saphira shielded him from the cold.

"Guess that leaves us," Illera muttered, faintly amused.

_**I suggest you catch up on sleep too little one. We have two long days of flying ahead of us.**_

_Alright. 'Night_.

--

The next morning, they packed up and flew. They flew northeast for the longest time, pausing only to eat lunch.

_Do you think it's possible to find another dragon egg?_ Illera posed the question to Amira.

_**I would think…that all mortals have combed Alagaesia, and if none were found…then no.**_

_Yet you were found._

_**But that was on Vroengard, deserted for centuries, which mortals thought was haunted. So the only ones who had walked there were the Riders.**_

_True. I want to visit Vroengard…and see how the Riders—where, they lived and worked._

_**I do too…and to try and find a record of my parents.**_ A note of yearning and wistfulness broke through Amira's hurriedly done barrier.

Illera didn't answer to that, knowing whatever she said wouldn't suddenly give Amira the knowledge of who her parents were.

_**Oh look, a lake!**_ The purple dragon effectively changed the subject.

_Should we head down and tell—_Illera's thought was cut off when Eragon asked them to land.

They did, six loud _THUDS_ puncturing the silence.

"I thought we had better drink some water, before we really do become very thirsty," Eragon explained. Saphira had already plunged into the sparkling lake, Spitfire narrowing the gap between them.

_Well go on then,_ Illera told Amira. _I'll be here._

_**Alright. **_

"So, we're going to ki—ok, fine, assassinate—" Illera switched words after seeing Ryan's pained look, "the five people in the same way?"

"No, that'd be too obvious and have the mark of a Rider or an elf on it. I was thinking, surveillance and murder in a dark alley?" Ryan answered, a bit of spark in his eyes. "Nah, just the way we did it would be fail-proof."

Eragon nodded slowly. "But more disguises this time."

Ryan groaned; Illera wrinkled her nose but didn't complain.

"So," Eragon continued, "when we fly, start thinking about the disguises. Right then, we have to set off now."

As if on cue, the dragons were already unfolding their wings, shaking water from their scales.

"Alright then," Illera said finally, standing up. "Let's go."

The three Riders mounted, and were airborne once again.

--

A dark haired figure raced across the sands on horseback. Perfect—now that the Riders had left on a mission, she could turn in another report. This time, maybe stay.

Finally, she reached the town of Dras-Leona, where there was mass confusion. A guard was the only thing blocking her way from filing a report—and reaping the benefits of it.

"What has happened?" she demanded.

The guard looked grim. "Gilerd Machestern, a senior war leader and Johan Bochenora have just been murdered. Anywhere with the slightest influence of politics now require identification. Rumor has it that the king himself is coming, this afternoon."

She smiled satisfactorily to herself. "Good. About identification…I am a, ah, personal servant to Anthony Tomel. _I live in his chambers,_" she stressed the last sentence.

The guard's face colored as he got the meaning of it. "Oh! Oh, of-of course! Go ahead!" he ushered her in.

_Idiot. If I really did share the bed of Anthony Tomel I would know what was going on. Varden work, it is…the murders._

She entered a large hall, where officials were milling around. Her practiced eye picked out the most important—by the way he barked orders and everyone scurried to carry them out.

"I've something for BH," she drawled, walking up to him and flashing the report in his face.

"Next corridor, third door on left. King's got them working overtime while they try and catch the murderers."

She nodded, not even listening as she walked away. Her high heeled shoes clicked on the marble floor as she came closer and closer to the Black Hand. She knocked on the heavy oak door, which opened smoothly.

"Ah, you have a new report?" the head of the table asked. Everyone was dressed in black.

"Yes. Here," she handed it to him.

He scanned it over. "Good, the Varden are having trouble recruiting? We will attack within a fortnight…Where are the Riders, incidentally?"

"I do not know, I believe they went to Teirm, Farthen Dur or Du WeldenVarden."

"What good you are!" someone hissed. "The whole point was to find out _where_ the Riders are, so we can attack without them!"

"Quiet." The leader of the Black Hand's voice was soft, yet commanding. "She's done well. We needed to know this. However, General MacAlbert hasn't finished gathering troops," he spoke spitefully. "So, that is a problem. Where the battle's location will be…"

He left his sentence hanging.

"The King will decide that," she answered quickly.

"Good. Then you are no longer needed. Return."

She bowed, and left again. This time it wouldn't be so easy explaining where she had been.

--

Back at the Varden, Undin was ordering more dwarves to come from Farthen Dur.

"See to it that more supplies are sent," he told the scripter, who finished off the letter.

"Good. Now, the Elven ambassadors?"

His right hand man, Reger, nodded and went to lead the group in.

They bowed respectfully as soon as they passed through the doors. Undin waved them on.

"The Queen wishes to know what you have ordered for the Dwarven Nation," one of them, dark haired and purple eyed said.

"I have called for more supplies to come, though stores are growing low," he answered evenly.

The elf nodded. "Good. My Queen has called upon our Nation to do the same. Is there any word on recruits or the Empire?"

Undin shook his head no. "Nothing has come in. However, scouts have been sent and the armies are on a standby mode, just in case. Rumor has it that the King will come to this last battle."

Everyone grew silent as the ominous sentence made itself clear.

"Then," the elf said finally. "The Riders had better be ready."

--

One of the king's lieutenants frowned as he was chosen to deliver a message to the king., Galbatorix was notorious for his temper. Slowly, carefully, he made his way to the throne room and knocked.

"Enter," a voice boomed out.

The lieutenant entered and bowed.

"What is it?" the king asked irritably.

"Your majesty, there seems to be, ah, delays in mustering the Royal Army. There is not many supplies, horses or men. I, that is to say, we, expect to be delayed another two fortnights."

The king's face darkened, then relaxed. "What is time to me? So long as you crush the Varden, good and hard! Go!"

The bewildered lieutenant bowed and made his way back to the General.

--

While flying, Saphira suddenly jerked, eyes wide.

_Saphira?_ Illera could hear Eragon ask.

_Saphira!?_ he tried again.

"SAPHIRA!?" he shouted desperately, clinging on as she wheeled around and headed back the way they came.

Amira made to follow, but Eragon's voice stopped her.

"I'll be fine!" he promised. "I'll figure out what's gotten into her. Go and kill them; that is more important."

Ryan eyed him dubiously, and opened his mouth to protest. "But, Eragon," he began.

Eragon cut him off. "No! That's more important! I can handle this myself! Go! When you're doing, fly directly back to the Varden, and I will go as soon as I can."

"Take care, Eragon," Illera called out, eyes narrowing. Why was Saphira acting like this?

"It'll do no good for anyone if this got to Arya, us splitting up," she muttered.

He flashed a wry smile at her before Saphira pumped her wings and got them out of there.

_What do you think has gotten over her?_ Illera broadcast.

Ryan shrugged. "We're almost there, let's get our disguises and concentrate," was all he said.

_**I've not heard of such a state,**_ Amira answered. _**Perhaps it has something to do with their prophecy. I mean, they have received one, they have gone, neither us or Spitfire and Ryan have received one and we do not leave.**_

_Perhaps. But Ryan was right; I must plan how to kill these men._

The hours stretched by and suddenly they were there. Gilead.

--

As Saphira flew steadily back, Eragon wondered what had possessed her to do such a thing. It wasn't like her—hell, it wasn't like any of them to do what she had done. They were still flying strongly however.

_What's happened?_ He asked himself. Saphira still didn't respond.

His thoughts, dark from the killing he had done so recently, inevitably turned to his brother.

_Gods, I hope he's alright. I hope he doesn't—isn't, going to turn to the dark side. But if I had had Saphira and been in Galbatorix's castle…and was going to be killed if I didn't accept to be Galbatorix's Rider…I wouldn't have done it. It wouldn't be fair to her, or to me. So I have to remember where he's coming from. Didn't he say Morzan used to beat him, Selena left, his closest friend died? I suppose it's a wonder he's not more cynical than he is. Oh…I hope he doesn't do anything rash. We need both of them to rebuild the Riders. It would be easier if there was even one more egg out there, one more dragon. I wonder how they are doing, forced to fight against us. Speaking of fighting…I wonder how Orik and Arya are getting along._

--

Arya blew her hair out of her face wearily. She was grimy from the sand and dust the wind had brought. They had gotten to another three towns with considerable less success—14; 24 in all. She wished that more of the population weren't such fools and so afraid to speak out against the Empire. Things were looking dismal.

Vanir tapped her on the shoulder. "My lady?" he asked, not seeming that arrogant. He as well was full of sand and debris.

"Yes?"

"Orik wanted you to know that we are making camp soon, and tomorrow at midday will reach the next village."

"Thank you. Is that all?"

He hesitated. "Yes…but Princess, do you think that…the Riders are fine? I have heard from Orik that they are on another mission…"

Arya's heart ached for him. Love for Illera was even worse than her own for Eragon; because she was so withdrawn and calculating…and proud. Pride was possibly her worst feature.

"I'm sure they are fine," she said as gently as she could. Vanir didn't want sympathy or to be reminded of his attraction towards Illera.

He didn't look persuaded. "Alright."

--

**LONG TIME NO SEE….are you all still alive? Loving the huge ass long chapters?**

**Hopefully that makes up for the long wait!! And lots of stuff to think about now!! I've got lots more stuff coming up! And hmm, most people seemed to want Orik as king, interesting…**

**Review please!!**

**Review Replies:**

**Cvbsrt: Here's the chapter, sorry for taking so long but when you asked that I was about 1/8 done lol! How'd you like this one?**

**Justin: thanks!**

**Arya 4 ever: You're right, lots of stuff to come!! Yes the sworn in thing was funny but hard to write, I lost creativity after the first 5 lol. Theodore is an interesting character, but for now he'll lie low. (I make almost everything up as I type, so Theodore was a random twist!!) Hope you liked this chapter!**

**Jeslie-saheia: I'll make them longer, SO much more satisfying to see lol! Hope you liked this chapter, sorry for the wait!!**

**Pickle99me: Nice to see you again! Ooh Orik will play a bigger part later, a lot of people wanted him king! I hate algebra too, brought my grade down to a high B!!**

**Ryder Blade: Don't worry, Orik will be very busy soon : Lots of people wanted Orik to be king!! **

**EragonPeep: The secret is to go to 'live preview' then click on reviews and answer all of them for the chapter lol!! Hope you liked this chapter!!**

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	30. Realizations

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**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

**--**

Chapter 30

A New Hope

Ryan and Illera were planning out their attack strategy.

"They're going to be in Council won't they?" Illera asked. Ryan had been in charge of this plan—what with Eragon already so busy.

"Right. How…do we pick the people out?"

"Could we just blast the whole Council? They're all working for Galbatorix anyways."

"We could. But…do we have an escape plan?"

"Run,' Illera's face was actually serious.

Ryan managed a dry chuckle. "Rough. We can refine it though. We can…hm, steal those explosives that we saw this morning, plant them in place, use a lil' magic, set them on fire…BAM, no more enemies."

"Good. I'll steal the explosives—maybe you want to study where to place each one so that we destroy everyone?"

"I can get their blueprints…all of them are in the brown tower over there… Let's get started right away. I want to get back to the Varden in time, since we have no idea when Eragon is going to be back."

Both of their faces darkened when they remembered their leader, and his dragon who had been acting so strangely.

"OK," Illera said finally. 'Let's go."

They murmured a few words and the air in front of them shimmered, the illusion of their faces being of two squat, round and scowling people.

She set off. Ryan watched her until she was out of sight, and then went to stake out the building and also steal the blueprints.

--

Illera was at the front of the warehouse, eyeing the three guards standing at attention. Mentally, she sighed. _Kill or faint? Let's see…faint. I'm feeling merciful today._

She slowly walked up to the three.

"Hey, what are you do—" one of them managed out before she muttered, "_Slytha_."

The guards slumped against each other, leaving her to walk within.

"Hmm, alright…explosives…may be near fireworks…" Illera searched the few boxes closest to her. "No? Well then…extra equipment?" she glanced over her shoulder before opening the crates. "Err…supplies for the army?" The last corner of barrels were quickly rummaged through, before a corner of her mouth turned up.

"Gotcha you little bugger."

Quickly and quietly, she headed out of the warehouse to retrace her path. As she went, she brushed past a soldier, who glanced around oddly. Illera swore under her breath as soon as she was out of hearing. He could probably raise the alarm or go check on things himself—and she wasn't sure that she had left everything in perfect condition.

Sure enough, as she dashed away guards behind her started shouting. Illera winced, but kept going…and soon crashed into Ryan. He stumbled backwards but caught her quickly with a wry grin.

"Was that you who set the alarms off?" he asked, eyeing the armful of explosives she was carrying. Amira sniggered.

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah I think so. Stealth is not in my regime," she closed off the invisibility spell.

He snorted. "Stealing the blueprints was easy—and probably harder than that warehouse."

"Alright, enough poking fun at my lack of stealth …what do we do now?"

He instantly became silent. A little while later, after he studied the blueprints, Ryan pointed to a few sections. "See here? And here? And here?" he asked.

Illera nodded.

"Well those are the crucial pillars that are holding the roof up. If we blast those, then everything would collapse. And here, the water, that has pipes leading to every room. If we bomb it, everything will weaken."

"What if there are survivors though?"

"Set fire to the building. Brutal…but what do we care?"

Illera acknowledged this. They were rushing, and those lives' were Galbatorix's.

"Let's start," Ryan turned them invisible again and led the way to the building.

"You put the explosives there, where the water supply is, which will cause the foundation to weaken. No, don't light it yet…Alright and over here, where the pillar is? Stick in on top…can you reach?"

She glared at him and tossed the explosives up. Her aim held true. "You're only half an inch taller than me."

He smirked. "Yeah, just making sure. The last place is over here, where they're remodeling the center…see that hole? Yeah put the sticks in there…good. I'll light these two, you get that one."

Illera whispered something and a small ball of magic appeared in her hand. _"Brisingr,_" she flicked her wrist and the ball was sent sailing towards the dynamite sticks.

Ryan appeared next to her, and then grabbed her arm. "We have ten seconds to get out of here before this blows up," he pulled her along.

Sure enough, the building folded in on itself behind them. Turning, all that was left for her to see was debris.

"Uh-oh, time to go," Ryan muttered as sirens blared and guards started their way.

_Successful I hope?_ Amira asked from somewhere east.

_**I hope so, there's nothing left anyways…get ready for a quick get-away, but we'll try and lose the guards first.**_

_I'll tell Spitfire._

_Thank you._

"This way," Illera darted forward and turned left. Behind her, Ryan followed.

She could sense that they were getting close to their dragons, and that the guards were advancing.

_Fuck!!_ _Amira, are you two ready?_ As she rounded a corner, Ryan suddenly shouted, "They're gaining! Hurry!"

Just ahead of them Illera could spot Amira and Spitfire; two glowing jewel tone house-sized shapes.

The Riders sped forward and vaulted onto their dragon's backs.

With a roar, Amira launched herself into the air after Spitfire.

Arrows flew up at them; Illera redirected them back and watched several men fall.

_Works every time…_

The dragons caught a gust of wind and flew higher, away from the furthest arrows. The way back to the Varden was clear and cloudless.

_It seems like it was easy. I wonder if Eragon's task will be as simple._

--

Saphira had landed inside Helgrind. Eragon still couldn't understand why she had brought them here, and why she still wouldn't answer. She was pacing around, leaving scratch marks on the sandy floor; it was all Eragon could do to keep from falling off. Saphira wouldn't let him down.

Suddenly the air become thick—_no, no, not the air,_ Eragon thought. _The…presence I suppose. The clear realm of minds is thick and heavy. And—what is that noise?_

A strange buzzing noise rang in his ears. Saphira seemed to straighten and head to the far end of the cavern.

_What the—_

The smooth rock wall glowed with energy. And for some strange reason, a phrase was being pounded into Eragon's brain. _Du Brisingr Vrangr…_He shook his head, trying to clear the feeling off.

_Du Brisingr Vrangr…_

His hair was flopping everywhere as Saphira flew lower.

_Du Brisingr Vrangr…_

_The path of fire…_

Eragon's eyes slowly started to close, and then opened them hastily. He couldn't lose his focus!

_Du Brisingr Vrangr…_

_Du Brisingr Vrangr…_

His eyelids felt so heavy…and he was realizing how tired he was…

_Du Brisingr Vrangr…_

_DU BRISINGR VRANGR!_

Eragon's head was pounding, he sank to the sand and slowly succumbed to the beckoning darkness.

--

When he woke up, Saphira was nosing the glowing wall. Groggily, he sat up and reached for Saphira's mind. To his amazement, he could reach it.

_Saphira!_

_**Why are we here little one?**_ The blue dragon turned.

_I don't know…what happened to you? Why didn't you answer me?_

_**I did everything subconsciously…I didn't know I was doing them.**_

_What is this wall?_

_**I…I have my suspicions…**_

_Speak them then!_

_**Do you not feel the energy? I think this is the Rock of Kuthian that Solembum told us about.**_

_I—possibly, however, would it be in Helgrind?_

_**We'll know soon enough! Speak your true name!**_

_I don't know it Saphira…_

_**Oh, come on Eragon. The legends say that the Rock of Kuthian knows your true name even if you do not, and it tells you.**_

…_So what is it?_

_**The phrase that was resounding in your head…**_

_Du Brisingr Vrangr?_

_**I am not the wall, there is no point in telling me,**_ humor was evident in this thought.

_OK._

Eragon stood, and slowly reached out to touch the wall. It was vibrating, the energy it gave pulsed off in waves.

"Du Brisingr Vrangr," he said clearly.

The wall rumbled the pulse of magic beating faster and faster until it was a thrum.

A solitary ghostly specter seemed to rise out of the wall. It was a tall man, hair cropped short, wearing a simple tunic, worn leather boots and a multitude of scars.

Eragon took a step backwards.

The specter laughed. "No need to fear," its voice was soft. "You, Eragon Shadeslayer are here. I have been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Eragon asked.

The man laughed again, softly. "I? I am the previous caretaker, if you will, of the Vault of Souls. The Vault contains the energy of the dead; much more than any living thing…and is also the reason why humans are so fascinated with Helgrind. You may know me as Vrael."

"Vrael?!" Eragon was surprised. "But then how did Galbatorix defeat you, if you had the power of the Vault to aid you?"

"Bah! I did not use the power the Vault offered," Vrael answered. "To use it, you would be desperate. You see, it is the magical energy of the dead—it is black magic. Sooner or later, if you used too much and drained the Vault, you would die. And, for we Riders, it is the bereft of honor, pride, and all we stand for to take this energy. However…I feel I must explain further my relationship with the Vault. You must understand that although I was caretaker, the Vault weakened me. I used up all my energy to try and subdue it, so it did not become part of me. For me to be caretaker…was pure hell."

"So when Galbatorix defeated you, he became the next caretaker?"

Vrael shook his head. "Nay, he discovered the trail of power that it left, and came here to investigate. He took over the Vault, and is now using it."

"How am I supposed to defeat him them?" Eragon asked. "If he is using so much power?"

"As I have said, use of such power cannot be prolonged. Either the caretaker, or the Vault will break under the strain. Galbatorix has used it for a hundred years. The Vault is very unstable. You could break it, with a sufficient amount of power. Galbatorix would suffer a heavy loss."

"Is this what you want me to do?"

Vrael's eyes darkened. "I want you to overthrow him in any way possibly. I want you to free his dragon and the land. I suppose, then, yes, I want you to destroy the Vault."

"Wait, how did Saphira know to come here?"

"I took control of her. I'm very sorry, but it was the only way to do it."

Eragon nodded.

"First, however, someone wishes to see you."

Eragon cocked his head, confused. _Who would want to see me?_

A clear, glowing shape was coming towards him.

"Brom?!" Eragon gasped out.

The old man, exactly the way he had looked when he'd died, nodded. "Yes Eragon. My name is Brom. I used to be a Rider, used to tell stories and used to train you," he said dryly. His tone softened. "What has happened to you?"

And so, Eragon related the hugely long tale. Brom hardly interrupted him.

"I see," he finally said as Eragon finished. "You have done very well. I am proud to have been able to train you. Now…There is nothing more to say."

"Wait, Brom," Eragon said quietly. "There was so many things that you didn't tell me—why?"

The old man smiled. "You didn't need to know of my bitter life. I dare say many could tell you what you do not know. I wish you luck on your journey to destroy Galbatorix."

"Thank you,' Eragon said simply.

Brom turned and vanished back into the rock.

Vrael nodded. "Good. Now, Shadeslayer, are you ready?" he asked.

Eragon took a deep breath. "Ready as ever."

"Good. Now this is what you must do…Speak your name again, and when you feel the power flowing into you, channel it into Helgrind itself. The Vault will be emptied. And when you channel the energy into Helgrind, eventually there will be a point where you must continue with it or it will collapse.'

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Your dragon will have to help you though. I will tell you when to stop and get out."

"OK."

Eragon took another deep breath and said softly, "Du Brisingr Vrangr."

Saphira joined with his mind as he stiffened, feeling the incredible amount of energy flowing into him. He redirected it, pushing it into the hard rocky floor with difficulty.

By now, the mountain was thrumming with energy.

_How are we supposed to keep this up?_ Eragon thought as he pushed more energy away.

They had been doing this for about ten minutes, just a fraction of the total time needed.

The strain was evident on him another ten minutes later. Helgrind was shaking hard now.

"Twenty more minutes my friend," Vrael said, fading slowly.

Eragon started to tremble.

Another ten minutes…

Helgrind was creating a roar now.

_**Little one, we can do this! We MUST do this!**_

The minutes slipped past.

"Five more minutes!" Vrael was almost gone.

Tick tock tick tock…

Finally, Vrael shouted, "Let go now!" he was almost gone.

Eragon cut off the energy quickly and vaulted onto Saphira's back.

"Thank you for doing this…I wish you well…and thank you for letting me rest in peace knowing Galbatorix will be destroyed," Vrael's voice sighed.

Eragon saluted him. "Anytime."

Saphira pushed off and broke out of the magic barrier, pumping madly.

Once they were far enough, Saphira wheeled around.

Eragon weakly surveyed the crumbling mountain, once so treacherous to him.

_Saphira…let's fly home,_ was his last thought before he lost consciousness.

--

In Galbatorix's palace, said person stumbled and fell to his knees. He felt his power being leached away. Full of disbelief and rage, he could only watch as his energy and unlimited magic left him a regular Dragon Rider, albeit being much older than four of the current ones.

The feeling soon left him and he angrily yanked at his magic to see what was left. To his shock, he was left feeling _useless._

Galbatorix was suddenly aware of the silence around him. Breathing heavily, he stood, glancing around. No one was here. Good, now he would seek out his Red Rider and see what had happened to him.

Galbatorix strode into the corridor of his Rider's rooms, knocked twice and barged in.

Murtagh was seated at his desk, reading a book.

"Did you feel that?" Galbatorix raged.

Murtagh looked up. "The Vault?"

"Yes the Vault, what else? How are your energy reserves?"

"Decreased, but otherwise fine.' Murtagh kept his hostility in check.

Galbatorix considered this. He, who had relied so heavily on the Vault was now just a simple Dragon Rider. And now, his own Rider who served him could be more powerful! This couldn't be!

"Good, just checking. Carry on," Galbatorix faked his smile and casualness before heading off.

_Why do I get the feeling that he's uneasy?_ Murtagh mused, setting down his book.

_**He's been using the Vault for far longer than you have…maybe he's gotten lax and only used it, not his own power.**_

_Perhaps…what are you saying?_

_**Don't rely on it…especially since we don't know what's happened to it. It could just stop now and come back later…or not.**_

_As you wish. I have no love for it anyways._

_**It'll be better for us all.**_

--

The two Riders were flying onward back the way they had came a few weeks ago. Land and water passed as blurs under them as their dragons covered the miles.

_I wonder how the Varden fare,_ Ryan mused to Spitfire. _It's very uncomfortable not knowing, don't you think?_

_**Agreed. I worry for the approaching battle. Do you think this will be our last one?**_

_Hopefully. I have not the heart to keep fighting, but I will gladly fix Alagaesia. _

_**And I will stand by you**_.

Ryan was just going to mention something else when a vast tremor shook the land.

"What the hell?!" Illera was heard.

"Do you think this has something to do with Eragon?" Ryan called back.

'Maybe…only way to know is to ask him once we meet up again. D'you think he's alright?"

"Yeah, he can take care of himself."

"How many days is it to the Varden?"

"Two."

"OK."

The hours trickled by and soon, they were landing to rest. Ryan mixed a bunch of things from his pack together in a pot and the duo gratefully consumed it. Without much chatter, they rolled out their sleeping bags and slid in, sleep taking them quickly.

--

Arya stood, still as the rock beneath her. Her mind still thought of Vanir's words, of his worry and pain for Illera.

_Is it wrong that I do not worry about Eragon? Is it wrong that I do not think of him so much? I…I cannot answer myself…but I know that I care for him, even if…it is in my own way._

--

**Ahhh long chapter!! Actually it only took about a week to write if you excuse me not working on it for days at a time…**

**REMINDER: There is now a poll on my profile, please go and vote for your favorite story!**

**Please review!**

**Review Responses:**

**Faerie of Murtagh: I'll try!**

**Jeslie-saheia: I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to end ANH and if I'm going to have a sequel or not. Hopefully you all like it!**

**Arya 4 ever: Lol! Well I try and update all my stories like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, then 1, 2, 3, 4, you get the point. And I had major writer's block on 3. lol. Yeah, Vanir is one of the characters you can't help but feel bad for. Hehe, everyone seems to hate Trianna…interesting. Hope you like this one!**

**Xlilypadsx: Thanks! Hopefully you learn about Saphira in this chapter. Arya and Eragon's relationship will be further explained in the upcoming chapters. Yeah, Vanir is one of those characters you can't help but feel sorry for. **

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**Pickle99me: Lol, sorry! I try and update all my stories like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, then 1, 2, 3, 4, you get the point. And I had major writer's block on 3. lol. Oh, yay, 'the plot thickens' love that quote. I hope you had some of your questions answered! Oh and Texas hold 'em…I have no idea, every time my friends want to play they have to re-teach it to me! I think it goes by the highest matching cards?? Hope that helps lol!**


	31. Tensions

**I have to begin this chapter with the fact that my story is NOTHING LIKE Brisingr! And that CP is an awesome writer and I can't hope to build my story around a plot so twisted. :X. Of course, I will try to finish it, so hang in there if you didn't like how Brisingr turned out, or just want to see how I would finish. **

**OH and another thing—I hate how Chris P totally played into fans' hands! Some things were total freaking duh (don't want to spoil it for people who haven't read it, but for those who did, I think you know what I mean). (by the way, Orik's not king in my fic cause of this, because you all wanted him to be so I did the opposite :)) **

**Enough of my ranting, and sit back and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

They had just landed at the Varden when Saphira broadcast to the other four that she would be landing soon—Eragon just barely revived.

Ryan called it to Nasuada's attention—Illera contacted Arya. They clumped together in a group as a blue spot grew larger and larger until Saphira landed with a storm of dust. Ryan hurried forward and caught Eragon as he slid off, fatigued.

_**Get him to his tent, **_Saphira growled. _**He's used far too much energy already. I can tell Nasuada what she wants. **_Ryan obeyed.

Illera relayed the information to Nasuada and Arya.

"Gerkin! Call for Angela the healer to be sent to Shadeslayer's tent, now," Nasuada commanded. A man hurried off, his armor clinking.

Somehow when they weren't looking, Illera had slipped off after them.

Nasuada's eyes narrowed darkly. That Rider seemed too rebellious…maybe she needed a word with her.

Arya followed her train of gaze. "Worry not. That is just how she is," she murmured softly and followed them to Eragon's tent.

Maybe, but that didn't meant she liked it, Nasuada thought.

Angela tutted. "Tsk. Shadeslayer should know better, exhausting himself like this. It'll take a few days—three at most, and he needs to keep eating. It would help if you all transferred some energy into him too."

They inclined their heads.

"That's all—oh and I would try making sure he got some of this broth down," the fortuneteller added before headed out to gather some energy-giving herbs.

Eragon reached for the spoon, his arm shuddering with lack of energy. Illera reached out suddenly and touched him, transferring a good amount of energy into him.

_**If the leader of the Riders collapsed from not being able to lift a spoon, I think we'd have a problem,**_she commented dryly before stepping aside.

_Thanks,_ he answered.

Arya turned her head—was that a smile? Ryan wondered. Copying Illera, he too channeled a good part of his energy to Eragon.

Suddenly, Vanir ran into the tent.

"Shadeslayer! The Dwarf king Undin and his group of guards have been killed!"

Their alarmed eyes shot to him, except for Illera, who responded, "Well then, I suppose we had better get to the Council."

She waited until Eragon stood and left the now crowded tent. Vanir hesitantly followed, keeping slightly behind her.

Ryan caught up with her, giving Vanir an encouraging sort of smile as he went.

"I wonder how the Dwarf king was killed…it's not exactly easy to kill an entire group of armed dwarves," she mused. "Unless it was a sneak attack…or treason."

The Council's tent drew nearer.

"Oh, and Argetlams," Vanir spoke, "The spellcasters Islanzadi sent arrived while you were gone. They will be in the tent."

Illera nodded. "Thanks."

He left them once they entered the tent, Eragon and Arya right behind them.

"As you know, the Dwarf King and his guards have been assassinated. We do not know by whom, when, where, or how; that information has not been relayed to us yet. Whether or not it was treason, we do not know. We do know, however, that they need to appoint another King. We also know that we must now launch our campaign directly into the Empire. We need to capture major cities before marching on Uru'baen itself. The elves are already marching upon Gil'ead and trust us to do the same to Feinster, as well as other cities."

"Aye!" came the war cries of everyone in the room. The Riders and elves stayed silent.

"Now, Islanzadi has sent us 12 spellcasters to aid our Riders. They will be in their own unit, attacking major leaders."

They nodded.

"The dwarves are in turmoil, and each of the clan's leaders have joined together to discuss who should be next, by vote. I have agreed not to interfere, but urged them to hurry as we march into the Empire. Feinster will be ours by the end of the week!"

Cheers rang out.

Nasuada waited for them to calm before deciding, "Good. I would have you all rally our forces before we march tomorrow, and I will speak with our magic users."

The Council and dwarves left to spread the word of battle.

"Now, Eragon, you know you are to bring down leaders, and capture the Lady Lorana, ruler of Feinster. However, not all of you can do that to ensure we win our battle. I wish to have a group of you move tightly and cut into enemy ranks through the middle. As you do, I will have soldiers pour into the gap and thus, the enemy will be surrounded." Her gaze swept over them.

The Riders nodded first, and the elves followed.

"That's all. I want to be marching by tomorrow noon, so you may be dismissed."

The group exited, and stopped a few yards beyond the tent.

An elf stepped forward, adorned with a lion's mane and blued skin. "Greetings Riders," they bowed. "We have finally arrived from Islanzadi. We will protect you throughout battle…I am Blodhgarm." Illera noticed that there was a strong odor about him, like a cat…and the sun, and it was intoxicating. Irritated by the obvious magic, she put up a few wards and shook her head to get the smell out of her nostrils.

Arya glanced at her and grinned. _Problems, dear Illera? _she teased.

_Too much bloody magic,_ she grumbled back.

The elves introduced themselves, all a variety of colors and faces. After the niceties were said and done, they retreated to their tents to again pack for the upcoming journey.

The next morning, Illera woke up, her body sore. It was still dark outside, but she found that she couldn't sleep. Silently, she slipped around the camp, the air almost buzzing with tense energy. When her eyes closed as she sat, leaned against someone's trunk, she sensed a presence slide in next to her.

"Marching today," a melodic voice murmured. Vanir.

"Mm," she answered, eyes still closed. She hadn't talked to him in since before she left, but she was on edge, and wondering how this war was going to end. _Why does he care so much about me?_ She thought, irritated. _I'm not as perfect as I seem, and I already have Murtagh. That should say something, as well as the fact I'm so guarded. I can't trust him, no matter how much he wants me to. I'm not as beautiful as any of the elves and much more ignorant and clumsy beside them I'm sure. Why must he make things difficult?_

"What is Uru'baen like?" Vanir asked suddenly.

Illera opened her eyes and turned her face to him. Then, she realized that Vanir was young, so young for an elf. He couldn't have gone to Uru'baen before the Riders' fell.

"It…it is a city, a ghost city…that seems to grieve for the glory and grandeur it used to have. It would be beautiful, for not the people who populate the streets, screaming and crying as soldiers take their loved ones away, and begging. It is a city that longs to rid itself of the grime and greed and sins that reside within."

He considered this. "Will it be hard to take?"

"It is well planned. However, if we attack from the east side, it will be easier. Like most human cities, there is a border dividing the rich and poor."

"I see. I wish I had been able to see it when the elves still controlled it."

"Likewise."

Vanir desperately wanted to tell her of his feelings for her, but he couldn't. Now was not the time, and…he was foolish, he was a coward, and rejection was a harsh thing.

The sun was beginning to rise now, the warm light bathing everything with a sunny glow.

Soldiers began to pop out of tents, and tear them down.

She stood up, her dark, tightened clothes setting her apart from everyone else. Illera had claimed that it was better to fight in—something loose could accidentally kill you. So, she had set about tailoring her clothes so they stuck to her body. The dark wash was of her own preference. Vanir idly registered that it showed off her body far more than the tunics that the elves wore.

Everyone else had rose, packing for the march. It was cool, the brisk air billowing about.

Ryan was buckling Spitfire's saddle to him.  
"Are we going ahead?" Illera asked, coming to a stop next to him. He smelled like soap and water; obviously he had recently bathed.

He nodded. "Nasuada wants us to scout their defenses. But we're supposed to remain incognito."

"Mm. Honestly, Nasuada can't think of something better we can do?"

"I think that's the point actually, keep us just barely undetectable."

"I only hope we can hold them by the time we get to the Empire. Reinforcements are arriving no?"

"A slim margin."

_Let's hope we can do this without Galbatorix noticing. _

_**I do not understand why you dislike Nasuada so much little one.**_

_It is just her attitude…way of looking upon things….annoy me immensely._

_**And that is it…?**_

_I do not know either…ever since I arrived I got the impression she did not want me here._

_**She would be a fool to refuse a Rider.**_

Illera didn't respond to that.

Nasuada ran her eyes over the carefully formulated squadrons that stood in the valley before her. In front of them stood Eragon's bodyguards, and the Riders. They were to take off in ten minutes.

Resignedly, she made her way down the hill she stood on to speak with them.

"Right then. Riders, you know what I want you to do…the rest of you may join them after you arrive. The plan, overall, is to storm as much of the Empire as we can before marching on the capital. While we are here, the elves now are attacking Gil'ead, and the dwarves to march upon Kuasta, north of us. After Gil'ead has fallen, the elves will curve back north, and the dwarves north as well to meet at Daret. Meanwhile, we lay siege against Dras Leona after Feinster falls. The other two armies will join us soon after. And once we regroup and plan out another strategy, Uru'baen itself."

The manic light of determination shone in her eyes. Illera broke the hyped silence by leaping on top of Amira. It was time to go. One by one, Amira leading, the dragons took off, winging through the sky, until they were just specks on the horizon.

The purple dragon and her Rider were both on edge, and tense. For after the day's battle, they would be marching to Uru'baen. And, Galbatorix…

"We've fought in battles plenty before, it'll be fine!" Ryan shouted over the rushing wing.

Illera could only nod; he mistakenly thought that she was nervous because of the upcoming battle. It was only part of her concerns.

The skies dragged them onward, each wing-beat carrying them leagues with the hard wind. The male Riders' hair tended to whip around messily—in the stress of wartime they had not had the thought to cut them. Finally, however, they landed in the cover of darkness with resolute sounding thuds, just close enough to see the blinking lights of Feinster.

"This is it," Eragon murmured. "The real first step to tearing down this totalitarianism."

Ryan's mouth curved in the ghost of a smile, an inside joke. "Sleep tight."

"Wake up," she dimly heard through her conscious. Her eyes squeezed together lightly, her nose scrunching up before her slanted eyes opened. Eragon was staring back into her face, his eyes gentle.

"Time to eat breakfast,' he murmured.

A small smile played at her lips before she decided it wasn't appropriate for the situation and dressed quickly before they left the tent together.

The first thing Arya noticed was that no one was there. Ryan and Illera were either still sleeping or out with their dragons.

"Is there a reason why you brought me out when no one is here?" she asked softly, glancing up at him.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Actually they've gone scouting."

The ghost of a smirk made its way across her face. "Alright."

Eragon took the opportunity to ask, "Is it just me, or has Illera been looking terrible these past few weeks?"

"I have noticed it too."

Eragon's worried eyes met hers. She knew he would be thinking of what the opposition, had told him—that Illera was in love with the enemy, and would quite possibly die for him. Would the reason she was looking so drawn because of that? Would she turn on them for someone she loved?

"All of us need to be on our best form," he said. "I can't risk a Rider not being her best."

"But I ask you, what would you do if you were in her position? In a prime, revered place to overthrow a dictatorship—something you dearly want to do—but having your loved one in that dictatorship, working against you? What would anyone do?"

He mulled over that question. "Illera is…different," he said finally. "I have complete trust in her abilities…I do not think she would fail us."

Arya's eyes asked the question for her. But what if?

Theodore reigned in his chestnut horse, dust covered and weary from the day and nights of hard riding. According to his liege, however, he was still far away from the Varden. Thankfully, though, the blood-red of his uniform effectively scared away any who would have harmed him. But it would be this that would draw Illera's gaze.

Miles away, the Rider and her dragon glided through the air, finally having time alone. The wind whistled as they sped through the air, almost deafening her and flying so high the air almost felt solid, then diving and feeling her eardrums pop.

Her long dark hair whipped around, slightly stinging her face where they hit. Brisk, cold fresh air frosted slightly on Amira's scales and Illera wiped at it with her sleeve, making them gleam again. She knew they were stretching Eragon's orders to be out here, probably already very far from camp, but at the moment she couldn't care less.

They swung lower and lower, until Illera could reach out and kick a tree's branches before she glanced ahead and froze. A scarlet uniform, a good horse…golden emblems?

_**Murtagh,**_ Amira thought quizzically.

_It's not him,_ Illera thought back. _That man doesn't walk the same. And Murtagh would be on Thorn…but that is the Rays' uniform. What in hell-?_

The distance between them was already halved, in the few seconds they flew. _I'm going to jump. It's the Varden's business anyways that a Ray is so far from the Empire, and if I passed it up Eragon would kill me._

_**Be careful,**_ was Amira's only reply.

Illera calculated quickly. If it took about ten seconds to go—was that four leagues? They were only a few yards away—the horseman leaping onto his steed and fruitlessly trying to gallop away.

_Quickly, go right next to them and then I'll jump._

Amira angled herself and then with a beat of her wings, drew level with man and horse. Taking a quick breath, Illera pushed off from the right and effectively tackled the man as Amira veered to the left, horse snorting wildly. The two humans rolled in the dust as they fought to gain the upper hand. Theodore wasn't a match for her though, and his hands were bound behind his back with a length of thick twine.

Falling back, she stood with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, critically analyzing him. Brown hair, golden hazel eyes, maybe 30 years old? Somewhat heavyset, and she knew from her tackle that he was strong.

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly, hair falling back into her face. "I know it's because of the Rider."

"And which one would that be, my lady?" Theodore adopted a bland expression.

"I can see the color of your tunic. What's your name?"

"Theodore."

"Alright then, Theodore. What were you doing out here, so far from Uru'baen?"

"That is for Lady Nasuada's ears only."

Illera's face took on a nasty expression before she controlled herself. "What Nasuada is able to hear will be determined, by either me or Shadeslayer." _An obvious lie, but what will he know?_ As if on cue, Amira landed heavily a few feet away from them.

"Alright! My Lord bade me come find the Varden. See-! I have here copies of documents the King relies on." Theodore gestured to his pack.

Illera glanced at the sky quickly. The morning was waning—it wouldn't be long before they started to question where she was. And though these were interesting…

"And how is my Lord Rider?" she asked abruptly, shuffling through his pack and withdrawing a few papers.

"I daresay his Majesty will not be too happy when he finds that the Varden has a very detailed account of what he plans to do."

The sentence was enough for her. Murtagh would be punished, but as Galbatorix couldn't spare his Rider being too badly injured, hopefully not extremely so. And judging by this Theodore's expression, he was fine now.

"Alright."

_Amira, we need to get back soon. Any ideas how we are supposed to transport this lot?_

_**I can take the man…do you want to ride with us or on the horse?**_

_It's a good horse, but not exceptionally fine…I could not get back in time. I'll walk him out, and sell him at the village over there. I think then we can ride back together._

_**I will wait. **_

Turning back to Theodore, Illera murmured, "Slytha," and walked over to the horse. The poor animal's eye whites were showing, agitated as it was over Amira's presence. Murmuring softly to him seemed to calm him down as she brushed the dirt, dust and sweat off his chestnut coat, and combed through his silky tail and mane until they shone.

She led him over to the village, maybe ten or fifteen leagues away and looked him over once again. Throughout the village she kept her eyes peeled for a sign of a decent hardworking family who could keep care of him, as she no longer felt that they needed gold. Almost immediately, she felt the stares of the people and heard wolf whistles.

Amira chuckled at her annoyance. _**Humans, dear Illera. You of all people should know that.**_

_I should._

There was a man, who looked to be halfway decent until he looked up and was obviously wine-sodden. Illera could not respect a man like that, nor allow an innocent animal to be given to them.

Then there was another, younger than the first, who was talking loudly that he needed a good horse to keep up with his messenger duties. Illera approached him quickly.

"I could not help but hear your predicament," she said, "And I have a solution. For here I do not need this fine gelding, and you do."

"Oho! How much would you be willing to part with him for?" the young man cried gleefully. "You are truly an angel sent from the skies!" _Oh I wouldn't put too much stock in that. Just the fact I'm using trader speak should turn him onto the fact I've been to more than a few places._

"I only will sell him if you promise on pain of your life to protect and care for this horse as if you have raised him from foal yourself," she said firmly.

"That I will, good lady!"

'Then he is yours, with no price."

The look on his face was incredulous. "Really? You _are _sent from above!"

Illera handed him the reins to the gelding and patted his head affectionately. "I will know if you haven't been keeping care of him," she warned. The man nodded and turned to the horse. And when he turned back around, she was gone.

Eragon was pacing around the campfire when Amira landed.

"Where _were_ you?" he exploded. "I just told you to scout, nothing more!"

Illera turned over to face him. Ryan stood behind him, wearing a _what have you done now?_ expression.

"You might not be pleased with the fact I'm late, but maybe this'll cheer you up." She grabbed Theodore's collar and swung him down, making him land in a cloud of dust.

Eragon loped over suspiciously to check on him.

"Lieutenant of the Empire?"

By now, Ryan had also come over.

"And not just that: _Murtagh's_ Lieutenant."

**OK OK. Yes, I'm back, from the dead…don't hurt me! I umm just had a few roadblocks along the way! And I'm on hiatus on 2? Of my other stories to work on these ones. I swearrrrr I haven't been doing this on purpose! I *think* this chapter is way better than my other ones but mebbe not, clarify for me? **

**Please review! As a welcome back present for me?**

**(and yes, after you do that, you can shoot me.)**

**Review Replies:**

**Misslindseyleeweasley: Thanks! Lol, I daresay you will be seeing a lot of Murtagh soon….**

**Pickle99me: No problem! Glad you eventually reviewed—I feel like my readers are dying off one by one!**

**Coolbluesmile: Thanks : )**

**Jeslie-saheia: Thanks! I'll definetly keep that in mind. Not even sure where I want to end this fic yet!**

**EragonPeep: Thanks! Yes, probably a sight to see!**

**Arya 4 ever: I really love Ryan, he's adorable! Thanks, Vrael was the product of hella lot of sugar. Hee, sometimes I write so cheesily it kills me :X. So sorry for updating (what, 5 months later?)**

**Bry Thalin: Thanks so much! I agree, and I abhor predictability (so I write against the tide pretty much!). I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Xlilypadsx: The Vanir thing is pretty sad, but sometimes that's just how it is eh? I like Eragon's name too lol, especially with his new sword's name! **


	32. Better Than Nothing

**Thanks for the reviews! **

**Alrighty guys I have a proposition for you!**

**This is based on reviews, of course :D. I will get a number using a random number generator (number already chosen at time of typing this) between current number of reviews (192) and 240. Whoever IS that number's review, I will PM (therefore must be a member), gets to chose a plot of a oneshot with A New Hope's characters, including or excluding a few.**

**Proposition end. G'luck!**

**--**

Eragon's head began to swim. What had happened on Illera's journey that had brought her in contact with an enemy officer? What had transpired between them?

The woman in question simply blinked innocently.

Perhaps it _was_ just a coincidence. He glanced at Arya to see what she thought, but she only shrugged. At least she, who was friends with the hard to read woman, trusted her.

And he trusted Arya. Saphira murmured, _**you have spent your days with Illera. You have trained with her, fought with her, kept her secret. I would believe that through that you have gained a trustworthy comrade.**_

_I do, but as Leader of us three I cannot just ignore that she comes back with an enemy soldier, defying orders while she does so and the soldier happens to be stationed under her lover!_

_**As I have said before, you know her personality enough by now. Would she deliberately do that?**_

_No. She wouldn't._ Eragon felt confident enough saying that, believing it…because if Illera was in league with Galbatorix; well, she had had enough opportunities to overpower him.

Right?

He hoped his judgment wasn't impaired.

"Then," he said roughly, "We'll start flying till sundown, then we'll camp where it's safe. Nasuada wants us at Dras- Leona by tomorrow noon. We will discuss questioning the prisoner when Nasuada gets to Dras-Leona."

Illera dipped her head, acknowledging no protests, and Ryan did the same.

"Right, let's get started then. Ryan, strap the prisoner—gently!—stomach down to the saddle. Yes like that. OK, leave!"

The three dragons took off, disrupting the wind as they did so. Illera's thoughts turned to the war—oh, the wasteful war! The war that had claimed so many lives, caused so much pain and suffering…Slow burning rage roared through her, threatening to consume her as she forced it back.

She would make Galbatorix pay! The Varden—no, the Varden was not strong enough, and she would not stand with men led by a blinded fool. No! If needed, she alone would leave, would exact her vengeance on a man responsible for the blood soaked land.

A tight smile curved her lips. She could wait.

Amira attempted a soothing blanket of calm and peace over her Rider's stormy mind.

_**Peace, little one. It is enough to look forward to the next day. Besides, complex plans and their planners often meet a messy end,**_ playful guidance pushed her to speak.

_No doubt, Amira…It vexes me though! To want, but not be able to act! _

Frustration was pouring from her, and she violently tried to pull it from spreading to Amira.

_**Peace…all will come in time to those wise enough. How would you rid us of Galbatorix anyways? Is that not Eragon's destiny?**_

_Destiny! Anything can be changed. Nothing is destiny, or the way that leads to it. Destiny is simply a word fool tricksters use to make their money!_

Amira wryly thought that her Rider was stubborn as a pig. But that would be a good thing, later on, if only pure will could help them.

Besides, was the rest of their group any different?

_**Why don't you catch up on sleep,**_ Amira suggested. _**You will need all of you energy later,**_ she tactfully left out the telltale dark circles under Illera's eyes as something that they'd all noticed.

Illera suddenly noticed how tired she was and, falling forward onto Amira's neck, sank into a deep sleep.

--

Eragon was acutely aware of every movement the now sleeping Arya made, mostly because his arms were wrapped around her waist. And, he was, for lack of better word, _nervous._ Honestly! He, leader of the Riders, who had seen through more battles at 16 than most men in their lifetimes, who was part-elf, and he was nervous because of _love_?

Now he was beginning to sound as scathing as Illera. But Arya was _different;_ so much that he couldn't risk any false move and let her slip from him again. Their relationship hadn't changed much; just that he knew that the concept of _them_ wasn't so impossible. 

Dear gods! He sounded like a little boy, moonstruck for the first time. Then again, Arya tended to do this to him; reduce him to a sliver of what he was.

Her arms shifted slightly, the friction making his heart leap, the sun causing her hair to shine and her skin to glow.

Eragon swallowed thickly and wondered if there would ever be a time when they could simply live day to day, together, just the two of them and Saphira; where they could discover each other's quirks and dislikes.

_Just the two of them…_

Arya stirred, squeezing her legs against Saphira's neck slightly. Eragon pulled his arms back like she had turned to molten hot fire. She blinked and turned her face towards him.

He didn't know what to say, what to greet her with…

"Morning," he rasped, feeling all the more stupid for saying it. _Morning! How mundane!_ _Couldn't you have thought of something better to say?_

He could feel Saphira stifle a trickle of amusement at his expense, and let a wry grin twist his lips. Some Rider he was, if he couldn't even greet his beloved! Strange, how some things tended to play with you like a toy.

"How long was I asleep?" Arya asked, glancing at the sun.

Eragon shrugged. "An hour or so. I expect we'll be making camp in another one or two hours."

She leaned the side of her face into his chest lightly, almost playfully. He stiffened, eyes flashing. _Arya? Playful? Maybe the impossible __can__ happen,_ he laughed silently.

"Are you afraid?" she asked quietly as he rested his head tentatively on her head.

"Of Galbatorix? No. Of my own life being at risk? No. For you, for Saphira, for the others though…" she knew that by 'others' he meant all three other Riders. Why he still cared about Murtagh was beyond her…but then again, Eragon was unique.

"Oh," she murmured.

Eragon looked down at her, almost showing the surprise on his face. "I thought you would ask why I still care about Murtagh."

Arya blinked at him. "You feel that it's your duty to help him…you don't want to let your brother down…and you don't want to let Illera down."

Eragon resisted the urge to look away from her. "Murtagh…he asked me to look after her. And, she's been a valuable friend and ally...I owe her. Just the fact that he cares about someone—her—means he isn't that far gone to the other side and I might be able to bring him back…you know?"

She just nodded understandably.

He shifted, and looking down at her with sudden gentleness in his eyes. The movement didn't go unnoticed by Arya, and she found herself holding her breath for some odd reason. And was that anticipation she felt? Anticipation for what though?

Slowly, as if in a trance, Eragon leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to hers, drawing breath and noting the familiar crushed pine-needle smell he associated with her.

Arya's green eyes widened, and she uncertainly kissed back, letting her eyes drift shut as she did so. The feeling of their bodies pressed together, their heat connecting, and his warm scent all served to combine into a dizzying one.

Gently, he pulled away, leaving her breathless for once. Had she ever been that, she wondered.

His next words brought a shiver of anticipation to her spine: "I can make you feel like that again later."

--

Ryan didn't know why Eragon was so worried. It was obvious, at least it seemed like it to him, that Illera was firmly on their side and nothing would make her go back to Galbatorix's. Anyways, it didn't matter if any soldier was Murtagh's if they were all loyal to the Throne.

Unless Eragon didn't trust her? Ryan frowned. After all the weeks together? It didn't seem likely—Eragon wasn't a paranoid veteran of hundreds of betrayals.

What about Arya? She could be the one feeding doubt into Eragon. After all, elves didn't trust lightly. And he didn't know the relationship between her and Illera.

His stomach twisted uneasily. For some reason, however hard he wanted to believe Illera, some things just didn't add up. Like, if the man was sent from Murtagh (which he was, obviously), how did he know to come here? Just coincidence?

But earlier months had taught him to be cynical of mere "coincidences".

--

Illera had woken up and now fingered the amethyst set into the hilt of Ai nervously. While she wasn't the only one on edge, it wouldn't be wise to say exactly _why._ Truth was that she didn't trust Nasuada at all. And to save herself, and those close to her, she would act against her if needed. Not that Eragon would be pleased about that.

Amira's wings beat out a rhythm that reminded her to look ahead to the horizon. And yes—that was a good thing as the mountain of Helgrind rose like treacherous gates that welcomed them back to Dras-Leona.

She couldn't say that she was happy about that.

--

After they made their camp, Eragon and Arya left to scout to see if the area was safe—and, Illera suspected, to catch up on more private time. A pang of longing surged within her for Murtagh, to see him and speak to him again, feel him next to her…

Illera stopped the feeling before she accidentally broadcast it to everyone in the vicinity.

Wow, she would be glad when all of this was over.

Looking up, Illera saw Ryan lowering himself to sit on the dirt next to her, and smiled tiredly.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"About the battle? Nah."

"Me neither. Spitfire tells me you don't like Nasuada."

She was tempted to smile again. That was Ryan—straightforward, as blunt as a wooden axe.

"However did he guess?" Illera commented dryly.

Ryan smiled a crooked smile. "He just confirmed it. I already kind of knew you weren't exactly buddy-buddy with her."

"If it weren't for the fact I already swore my allegiance to Eragon, I wouldn't even be here."

He gave her a startled look. "Why not? If you're going to rebel against Galbatorix, why not with the Varden as a united front?"

"Because I don't agree with her policies, and her leadership. I don't agree with her as a person," Illera's voice was getting colder—she was in no mood to argue a point she didn't have much evidence for, but that her gut told her she was right.

He sensed the irritation hidden in her voice and didn't answer. Women, he thought, were annoyed too quickly and sometimes by seemingly nothing at all. One of the reasons he was glad no one appealed to him at the moment.

Ryan felt a rush of sympathy for Vanir. Illera had already told him—Ryan—that 'there was someone else'—who it was, he didn't know, but it was obvious she wouldn't look elsewhere.

How the elf had even begun to like Illera was odd. They barely spoke, yet he simply _adored_ her to the point Ryan wanted to retch.

Ryan shook his head, trying to rid the notion of Vanir and Illera out of his mind. No, they would never be, especially with Illera the way she was.

But if, IF, they were…_Yuck,_ he thought, and tried again to throw the idea out of his head. This time, he was successful.

Spitfire was snorting quietly with Amira. The green dragon—still slightly smaller than Amira—had let the other dragon in on what his Rider was thinking about.

Both of them were having a hard time controlling themselves so that they didn't accidentally set the camp on fire.

Illera glanced suspiciously at the dragons, and at the "innocent" Ryan.

"I'll be going near the river for a bit. I'll be back in ten minutes," she stood up and began padding towards the temptation of a bit of water.

Reaching the river shore, Illera dug a small depression in the loam and filled it with water. The rush of river water was at once soothing and unsettling—so many things could be obscured by the sound of it.

"Draumr kopa."

The image shimmered, and came up blank. Blank? Fear clawed at her and she tried it again, frantically;

"Draumr kopa!" This time, she made out a faint watery outline—a dragon, and maybe a man—before the water cleared itself and became blank once again.

It was somewhat reassuring. Maybe Galbatorix put a spell on the both of them so that the opposition couldn't see what they were doing, what they were planning.

Illera hoped he was alright.

Rising, she silently informed Amira that she was going to be getting back. Amira already knew what her Rider didn't have to say, and felt the frantic worry bubbling underneath that cool exterior fade a little bit.

Illera decided that while she was here, she might as well collect some water for the night. She turned in a circle, wondering how she was going to carry it.

An idea came to her. A few words later, as she drew iron and steel from the mineral rich loam, a large bowl took shape. Inspecting the newly made object deemed it a success, and she dipped the bowl into the clear, running water.

Back at camp, Amira yawned widely, showing rows of neat, sharp teeth. It wouldn't be long now, until they needed what energy they could, and hopefully bring down the Empire. And when that happened, hopefully, the two of them could be happy.

Saphira launched herself into the air, Spitfire following. The two of them were going hunting, and as the three had agreed earlier, there should be at least one of them at the camp, just in case. Amira was glad for their bonding, because they truly were good dragons, but a pang of jealousy still tore at her. _Oh, Thorn…_

Arya and Eragon came back a little after Illera appeared out of the shadows. They were smiling widely, and uncommonly cheerful.

_No guesses what took them so long,_ Illera stifled the laugh that threatened to come out of her mouth.

By the look on Ryan's face, he had already had a speculative thought of what it might've been.

Raising an eyebrow, Illera began mixing their small quantity of vegetables and olive oil into the water, suspended over the hot fire as Ryan took out their supply of bread and cut four pieces for each of them.

By now, the thin soup was bubbling and Arya had taken over the food. Eragon knelt next to her, a slightly idiotic grin on his face as he watched her.

Illera rolled her eyes. _Whipped,_ she mouthed at Ryan. _He'll never be the same._

Ryan nodded his head emphatically.

Eragon spooned out the soup to four bowls, and Illera wryly thought that the Varden had fallen on hard times indeed if they were relying on _her_ cooking. Even though Arya had managed to salvage it so it still tasted good.

Illera silently applauded the elf's culinary skills. _Do you like your food?_ Illera asked Amira teasingly. There were no cattle or deer here, and so the dragons had had to settle for sheep.

Amira hated sheep.

The dragon grunted a playful glint in her eye. _I wouldn't act too cocky now little one_ and Illera could have sworn she laughed, _one day when you're not looking, you'll be the one with wool stuffed down your throat. _

_I'll keep my eyes peeled O wise one,_ she commented back dryly.

Reverting her attention back to the food, she cautiously dipped her bread into it and took a bite. _Hmm. Not bad._

A slightly strangled, soft noise to the right of her made her look up. _Ah right. Theodore._

"I suppose we must give him some food?" Ryan asked.

Eragon barely looked up from speaking in soft tones to Arya.

"Yes, what you feel is best."

Ryan gave the man ten pieces of jerky and a slice of bread.

"Better than nothing eh?" he asked Illera, who was mopping up the last of her soup with the bread.

"Yeah. Better than nothing."

--

**And better than nothing is what this chapter is! More Eragon/Arya action per reader request! How did I do?**

**I have a cold…it's horrible. Make me feel better? : )**

**Review replies:**

**-TotallyJazzled-: Thank you! I'm steering for the ending soon, but am toying with idea of a sequel. **

**MidnightAnimeAngel: Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!**

**EragonPeep: No worries! I'm hoping I can get to the end without making it too painfully drawn out, still planning! Thanks for the feedback!**

**I Love EraxArya Stories: Thank you! I don't know if I can actually bring myself to kill one of my characters, but that's just a thought : )**

**Valinor's Twilight: Thank you!! **

**xLilyPadsx: Lol, I have a whole bunch of excuses for that but seriously unacceptable! 5 months! –hides- To make up for the long lapses in updates though, I'm making chapters as long as I can stand it! Wow, I love hearing people's speculations, makes me feel happy –strangely enough- lol. I added Eragon/Arya fluff due to the fact that yep, there is like NONE in my story—how was it? Let me know!**


	33. REAL No More Peaches

**Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate all the input!**

**OH MY GOD GUYS...I'M SO SORRY. I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED CHAPTER 32 AGAIN, NOT CHAPTER 33! THIS IS THE REAL ONE!!!!**

They had landed weeks before Nasuada's troops smudged the setting sun's horizon. Islanzadi had voiced her disapproval of having the Riders stay behind with the troops, so they had come on ahead to Dras-Leona and left The Varden about to fight at Feinster. In Illera's opinion, it had been a complete waste of time to even stop.

She shielded her eyes against the hot yellow rays beating down on all of them, noting that it was already mid-afternoon. At this rate, it would be fall by the time they finished. The fact that Nasuada was here meant that Feinster was theirs, but it would have come at a price.

Dras-Leona was next. Having staked it out a few days before, she wondered where exactly the town had gone. Except for the truly wealthy and priests, they'd all disappeared. Even the militia had gone.

Some of the Varden's magic users had arrived though, along with a small infantry of elves—only a taste of what was to come. The elves had pushed on without much difficulty, and if Dras-Leona should fall easily, Uru-baen would be soon after.

A ripple of goosebumps caused by the cooling air skewed across her skin, as well as the thrill of adrenaline. Illera had already decided that she wouldn't follow Nasuada's fool orders anymore. If she was punished, so be it—she would still be alive. That wasn't to say that the dark skinned woman was an unfit leader—but there was something in those dark eyes that she didn't trust. Like a snake ready to turn on it's master…

A set of light footsteps was approaching; judging by the shadows dancing it was an elf. Probably Arya, Illera thought.

"Eragon wants us to meet with Nasuada and Islanzadi; report on what we've found so far," the elf actually smiled.

Illera raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to bend down and look the elf straight in the face to see what had gotten into her. Arya would probably still be insulted, however good mood she was in.

Then it hit her. Eragon! That was probably why she was so cheerful. Illera's mouth tilted in a full grin.

"Eragon's finally gotten a move on now has he?" she asked.

Arya averted her eyes for a second, and then fixed them on the Rider with mock seriousness. "Now why would you think that?"

A laugh burst through chapping lips. "About time is all I can say. And it's good to see the both of you actually happy. Just tell him that I've heard his message," Illera hastily cut through Arya's protest that they had been happy before they began their relationship, and the elf waltzed off.

_Arya, waltz? _Illera wondered. It was definetly Eragon.

She turned her attention back to the task at hand and made her way through the dark to the Council.

--

Ryan watched Illera tilt on her chair's two back legs, looking very much like a panther. They had same sort of intensity and grace and danger—the conclusion gathered from what written word he had read about the animals anyways.

The Council had read over Theodore's reports, questioning him on practically anything, probing into what Eragon had merely glossed over. Apparently Galbatorix was drawing every able man into the capital and defend the city—obviously he didn't care if they died, but cared if he lost too much energy trying to save himself. The plan was to share with the dwarves after Dras-Leona fell.

Nasuada and Islanzadi had heard their reports about Dras-Leona's ghost city and since the reports of few men as the defense coordinated with the plans taken from Theodore— decided to attack the day after tomorrow. Hopefully, with so few people to defend the borders, it would be easy to lay siege and capture the place.

Morale was high, with so many successes recently and no word of the King and Murtagh. In fact, most of the human soldiers had gotten so confident that uncouth songs about the two supposedly cowardly enemy Riders could be heard from the lead tent.

And he had heard rumors that much of the tiny, isolated towns had completely deserted and come looking for the Varden for protection against the Empire…the cities they had captured certaintly didn't help deter conscriptions.

Nasuada asked Illera for her opinion, and judging by the look on the latter's face—bored, but so spiteful—Ryan figured that she honestly wanted to tell Nasuada where to shove it.

"Seems perfectly fine to me," Illera smiled sweetly back at Nasuada. But what she _hadn't_ said—recognition of Nasuada as her liege—rang louder than her words.

But her eyes just dared anyone to speak about it, and somehow Ryan doubted that anyone would take her up on it.

Nasuada's eyes were like flint, but before she could respond, a man burst into the tent.

"Lady Nasuada! The dwarves have sent a message—that Orik, son of Thrifk is now the King of the Dwarf clans!"

Everyone in the tent looked taken aback—the King should've taken weeks more to choose and go through every formality. Though, Ryan supposed, it was probably due to the impending crisis that he was chosen so quickly.

"Hail, King Orik," Eragon grinned crookedly at the messenger, telling him that the silence in the tent wasn't a bad thing.

The poor man looked absolutely petrified that the Leader of the Riders was talking to him, and Ryan couldn't blame him. Eragon _was_ rather intimidating; until you got to know him, and his elfish features didn't help.

"Thank you for the information," Nasuada said stiffly. "Very much. You may look forward to a raise in the future."

The messenger beamed and scuttled out, presumably to find something to eat.

"We will continue on from Dras-Leona to the capital, and again, have the dwarves meet us there. Then, time will tell. This Council is adjourned!"

Ryan tried to get to Illera amid the screeching of chairs being pushed back, but when he got closer to her, she was already gone.

--

Illera had slipped away from the activity of the camp even as it slowed and the shouts of men became murmurs.

Shit, she had almost lost control today at Council. When Nasuada had asked her, it had struck her as so snarky, and singling her out had really made her see red.

_I need to work on my self control,_ she thought wryly. Honestly, if she really had lost it—there was no telling the fall out. And Nasuada definetly wanted her to have a meltdown, preferably in public.

A twig snapped behind her and she froze, hand already on the hilt of her sword. Heart pounding, blood rushing through her veins, Illera turned in one swift movement, probing for human minds.

Her eyes widened when she found them. _What in…_

Shadowy figures lunged at her, and she slashed her sword in a wide arc to fend them off. There was a grunt as the metal slammed into something, and she ducked behind a tree as rushing air told her that something was being thrown.

Spikes thudded home in the bone-dry wood to her back. Hastily, she threw up quick wards that would take most anything's attack.

_**Illera?**_ Amira asked, alarmed at the adrenaline that pushed her Rider to run.

_I'm under attack,_ Illera thought dazedly. _Don't know who they are…_

A yell brought her back to reality as men rushed and encircled Illera and the tree.

_Good thing a tree has got my back…_she thought dryly as a few of the men charged.

She brought Aie around with a flick of her wrist, expertly slitting two men's throats and slashing at the others in the same movement. With a guttural cry, the doomed men's bodies hit the ground, effectively distracting their comrades for a second.

Illera didn't give a second thought to the men, but stabbed another in the chest when he got too close.

A dragon's roar did get her attention though, and she tried to make out the color through the inky darkness.

Bright, iridescent purple flame effectively toasted two unlucky men and Illera actually smiled as she accidentally beheaded a man.

_Damn, that was just supposed to cut his throat,_ she thought dispassionately.

_**Glad to see that you cannot survive without me little one,**_Amira scolded without much feeling as she ripped someone apart.

Wincing at the ill-fated man's fate, Illera scanned the clearing for more of the attackers. There was no one left.

_Thank you,_ she murmured, letting her sword point down and spinning to survey the uniforms on the bodies.

They were like nothing she had seen before.

In confusion, she looked at them again—gray, with a golden kind of swirl on it—and secured the image of the emblem in her mind. Would this be local militia?

Two thuds made her turn in time to see Spitfire spread his wings and Ryan leap off.

"What happened?" he reached her in seemingly record time.

She shook her head; feeling like time had stopped her in a thick haze of _what just happened_?

"Attacked," she rasped, "Eragon should see them. I need…" her voice broke and she was rendered silent.

_What in…_

Amira glanced at her Rider, concerned when she tried to speak again but nothing came out.

Ryan stared, and then seemed to concentrate.

"Eragon will be here soon. You can tell him what happened then—rest for now," he added sharply when she made to follow him out of the clearing. "I'm just moving the bodies."

Illera shrugged and sat down hard on a rock when her world began to swim. Her breathing quickened and suddenly she couldn't see anything, nothing except darkness, not even the varying degrees of shadowy movement…her eyelids felt so heavy and she struggled to open them…

_**Illera! Hold on! Wait!**_ Amira frantically nudged her Rider, pacing around her and making contact with Ryan, who appeared at once.

"Right, what in hell have you done now?" he muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead and frowning when it was a normal temperature.

Illera swayed and would have fallen over if Ryan hadn't caught her with catlike reflexes.

Her pupils dilated and she couldn't think, could barely breathe.

His suspicions mounting, he used his mind to probe forward and felt a sort of alien presence outside her crumbling resolve, obviously working to get inside. But judging from her dazed expression, she couldn't feel it. He could sense Amira supporting Illera's mind's walls, but….

Illera flinched as a spasm of pain flicked through her mind like a burning brand. Angrily, Ryan turned to attack the invading presence, feeling the weight of hundreds of years of experience and knowledge radiating from it.

This was not good.

With a rustling of leaves, Arya and Eragon appeared—finally.

"What happened?" Eragon demanded, eyes widening at the barely conscious Illera.

"The men attacked her, and now there's someone else trying to get to her mind," Ryan explained, redoubling his attack on the alien presence.

There were no cracks in its resolve anywhere and it continued it's never ceasing attack on Illera's mind.

Arya sucked in a breath, but her voice was calm. "It sounds like they are attempting to possess her, or absorb information. Keep her strong; Eragon and I will attempt to find the invader." She bounded away. Eragon turned to do the same when:

"Eragon, wait!"

He stopped. "Yes Ryan?" there was only alarm and fear for their comrade's health in his eyes.

"See if you recognize that insignia," Ryan nodded to the nearest body.

Glancing at the bodies, the fairer-haired Rider's mouth tilted. "Shame she didn't think to save one of them before slaughtering them all. We could already have our information."

Without waiting for a response, he too slipped through the shadows.

_Spitfire, can you go with them?_ Ryan asked the green dragon, who had been relaying the news to Saphira. _Just in care?_

_**I will. Whoever is so cowardly that they need to hide behind mortal men and shadows to attack deserves to die a cruel and unusual punishment.**_

With those angry words, he took off with a rush of wings and blast of air.

Ryan couldn't say he didn't agree.

--

It was bright…so bright. Like the sun had been frozen to its afternoon high.

Illera spun around after hearing leaves crunching under someone's (or thing's) foot.

A pair of smoky gray eyes blasted hers with familiar intensity.

_Oh gods…_

"Murtagh?" she asked, utterly bewildered. What in hell?

He looked exactly the same, down to the semi smirk that he wore with his usual easy arrogance.

"But…I was…" Illera was totally lost for words as she tried to grasp what had happened. Hadn't she just been with Ryan, and Amira? There had been something horribly painful, a constricting of her chest that made breathing difficult…

Murtagh didn't answer, just motioned for her to follow him. So she did, a dizzying mixture of excitement, confusion and happiness swirling within her. Something still didn't feel quite right though—he hadn't spoken…

They wove their way through an urban area, cobbled streets barren and silent, to a stop near what looked like a castle—wait, the castle in Uru'baen? Galbatorix's?

It definetly was.

"Here," his low voice jolted her from her thoughts. "On the East wing—you remember? It is where the servants are stationed…and there are hardly any guards there," she registered the veiled information.

"And there," he continued softly, "There, Galbatorix hasn't been able to convince the builders to renovate yet. It's been falling apart for years," Murtagh pointed to the South East entrance.

Illera could only nod, trying to memorize every detail of the massive building.

He turned back to her and locked gazes, the heat in his eyes making her feel almost giddy.

"Come here through the South Side of the city. I'll be here. When you come, I'll still be waiting."

Illera reached out to touch him, only to widen her eyes when her hand passed through his shoulder. Silently, his profile faded—only his eyes were still fixed on hers with the same intensity, two steel orbs of hopeless trust and restless anticipation.

Then she blinked, and he was gone, and her last comprehensible thought was that she needed to tell Eragon, quickly.

--

Her breathing was slow, so slow that Ryan was almost afraid that she had somehow died and he hadn't noticed. Arya and Eragon had returned already, with nothing to show for their efforts, and they'd decided to move Illera back to the camp. The presence attacking Illera's mind had lessened, and as they moved out of range, disappeared.

Eragon had been elected to carry her and Ryan followed several paces behind as the younger Rider's strides seemed to eat up the ground.

When they reached the camp, Eragon headed straight for Angela the herbalist's tent. It was obvious, Ryan supposed—Angela had healed him several times and was more than capable of helping Illera.

By now, the camp was silent except for the quiet snuffling of livestock and horses, the crickets chirping and the gentle wind.

Eragon knocked on the wooden frame of the tent with his booted foot and entered, careful not to hit Illera's head on the frame. Ryan followed.

Angela was inside, muttering over bundles of herbs and peering over yellowed pages of books. The aged herbalist looked up as Eragon gently set Illera down on a cot and tsked.

"My, what trouble you Riders are always getting into! What's happened now? How long?" Angela fired off questions as she checked Illera's pulse, forehead and breathing.

Ryan stepped in to answer and Angela clucked. "Could be her body shutting down to protect itself, so she could be in a self-induced coma. Or it could be that the attacker managed to infiltrate her mind."

"Can you get her out of it?" Eragon asked, putting his arm around Arya, who had popped in unnoticed.

"It depends. Her body could reject the medication, or it could accept them. We still don't know the effects of the magic, but I will try," she fixed an eye on Eragon. "It would be easier if you looked after your lot," she lectured gently.

Arya pulled a piece of fabric out of her pocket. "We were wondering if you could recognize this."

Angela studied the insignia hard. "No. But then, we have not been in the thick of news and politics. I assume that it would be the sign of some local military, or perhaps bigger. Why do you ask?"

"These symbols were the uniforms of the men who attacked Illera. I think…I recall it from the past but…I cannot put a name to it now," Ryan muttered, rubbing his temples.

Silently, the herbalist mixed up a few herbs and somehow dissolved them into a glass of water.

"So it will be easier for her to swallow," she explained.

Eragon made a mental note to ask her later how she did that in case he ever needed to use it.

Stooping quickly, Angela eased a spoon through Illera's lips and emptied the contents into her mouth, running a finger down the younger woman's throat to help her swallow. She did.

The other three in the tent simply sat and watched the healer at work and try to judge Illera's process.

Eventually, her breathing went back to normal, but she still showed no sign of waking up.

"All we can do now is hope for the best."

--

Her eyelids felt heavy, and she didn't feel that she had enough strength to try and open them. But then Illera remembered what Murtagh had told her and almost instantly tried to sit up to no avail.

_Was that a hallucination?_ She asked herself. _Was it? _

_What in hell is that taste in my mouth?_

_Amira? Can you hear me?_

_**Little one! Finally! How are you? Don't strain yourself yet!**_

_I'm alright…I should be up soon. Soon. I feel too tired to try now. But I saw Murtagh—I think it was a dream—and he told me some things about the caste. Like how the East Side—I think—is barely guarded and South Side is falling apart. That's why…we have to enter Uru'baen through the South Side._

_**Are you sure? It might have been…just a dream?**_

_I thought of that, and then berated myself for forgetting. You remember when we were there? I…I knew the city so well…I don't know how I could have overlooked those details. _

_**Yet it has been a long time since we have been there little one,**_ Amira gently reminded her of the implications. If she was wrong, thousands would die. If she was right…it could make their path to the King so much easier.

_I know. But even if it is old news, I still must tell Eragon. Which reminds me…_

Gathering her own will to escape sleep's tempting fingers, her eyes opened and then immediately shut at the bright light.

_How long have I been here?_

"Illera! You're awake!" Arya cried out suddenly, appearing at the cot's side in an instant to push the younger woman down as she tried to sit up.

"Why yes, I hadn't quite noticed," Illera muttered hoarsely and swiped her tongue around her mouth to get rid of that herb taste. What on earth had happened?

'I've got news to report to Eragon," she accepted the water Arya pressed to her but only sipped at it. "About Uru'baen."

If it wasn't Illera's imagination, then what made Arya's expression cloud ever so slightly next?

"I will bring them here. And for now, _rest._"

Of course, since resting had done her so much good when Ryan had ordered her to do precisely that.

--

**Like the super long chapter? Or not? Just to show that not everything will be peachy on their way. But I'm also getting sick of the Inheritance world. So I should be trying to finish this up within like…well before August, I'm aiming for that. But you all know my procrastinating skills, so December is probably a more realistic guess. **

**Thoughts on this chapter? Let me know! (By the way, you still have quite a few chapters to go before someone gets to create the oneshot plot, if current trends of reviews per chapter continue…)**

**Review Replies:**

**MidnightAnimeAngel: Thanks! They kind of do, in this one, but not exactly know what I mean? Haha. I hope you liked this chapter too!**

**Valinor's Twilight: Thanks so much! I'm still trying to figure out an appropriate ending that adheres to the prophecy :X Chris P certaintly didn't make it easy for Fanfiction authors!**

**Stalkurn: Unfortunately there isn't as much Arya/Eragon in this chapter as Illera yanks the focus away from them, but I promise there will be more!**

**RainbowSix: Lol : ) I'll try to keep it up!**


	34. Breaking Point

**Arya's point of view—**

The siege of Dras-Leona was today. Only the Rider Ryan was to be in it, and a small brigade of elves, as well as about 500 Varden men. There didn't seem to be anyone in the city—the men who were going were mainly going to loot. Heaven knew we needed the supplies.

Eragon had sidelined Illera because he claimed she still needed to recover. I knew she was irritated, but I couldn't say that I thought it was bad. It was fine with me, because that meant Illera was sequestered into Angela's tent and that left me and Eragon alone.

Try as I might, I couldn't stop thinking about him anymore. Even the feeble excuses that had kept me away in the past were like feather defenses in the midst of a tornado.

It was a good thing then that we spent so much time together, because I was afraid if we didn't, I might explode or something.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I turned around, to be greeted by warm chocolate eyes and shiny brown hair. I was surprised by the feeling that engulfed me—happiness, but so much more than that. I felt like I was on a cloud—something that had escaped me ever since Faolin.

Eragon was my everything now, and I'd almost passed that up. That realization—and the fact of this war— was probably what's making me want to rush everything, making me want to go faster with him. It was hard not to, but I was forcing myself to go slowly. He was so _young_, not jaded or anything like I was, yet. And if people scorned me for allowing us to be together, more folly to them. Who am I to care what they think? Who are they to judge me; me, Princess of Du Weldenvarden?

My mother would have said that she didn't know I could care so much about anyone, or anything. But I don't know my mother anymore. She doesn't know me anymore. The stress put onto her by her duties leaves very little time for the two of us to reacquaint, and what time she does have she uses to rest. Do I miss her? But how can I miss the mother I remember, the only mother I know, the mother who banished me seventy years ago?

Enough about the past.

Eragon leaned closer to me and asked, "Do you want to go flying?"

I resisted saying, 'with you? Of course,' just barely. "Okay," I answer.

His eyes sparkle with happiness—so easily granted—and he grabs my hand, pulling me along to find Saphira.

I can't believe that I can find so much elation in such a simple gesture.

But I do.

I can't believe he's changed me so much.

--

Arya might have been dancing off with Eragon, but I was not happy.

I was sitting on a cot in Angela's tent, head propped up against a multitude of fluffy pillows; irritated at my boredom and the fact I was forced to stay in here.

Stupid all-powerful wise leaders.

I was grateful to Angela for healing me, but I wasn't exactly helpful to her. I couldn't mix herbs, or even sort them, so I was useless in here.

I kind of wish we could surge onwards to Uru'baen already.

Solembum leaped onto my cot, fixing an eye onto me.

_What?_ I asked the cat, a bit unnerved.

_You should be scared,_ he answered. _It will happen._

_What is?_

_What you fear the most. It will happen. Be ready,_ he jumped off and padded away.

Well, that was a bad omen.

_What d'you mean?? Solembum, come back!!_ Illera growled, but the cat nimbly dodged outside.

_Dammit. How am I supposed to figure this out? What do I fear the most? Failure?_

I massaged my temples. It was way too early to deal with this new prophecy, when Eragon's hadn't even been fulfilled in full yet.

Sometimes, I just wanted to stab myself.

--

Everywhere inside Dras Leona was empty. Dead, abandoned—haunted. Creepily enough, inside each building, it didn't look like anyone had left. Meals put out here, beds unmade, clothes that lay about—it didn't add up. The men that had preceded Ryan entering the city met no resistance as they stripped the place of everything salvageable.

He couldn't blame them. Once upon a time, he would have objected to the taking of the items—but this war, his life, had changed him. It was amazing what people would do for survival.

The soldiers grew more confident now, making no regular necessary precautions. They trampled through the city, Ryan following more slowly, silently.

That was when he noticed it. The golden swirl on grey backing. The same symbol on the men Illera had killed—now, on the buildings. Turning, he now noticed them everywhere.

Slowly, he was putting things together. Was the reason the city was in such state because of this symbol? Obviously it was because Galbatorix was calling everyone into Uru'baen, but then they would have packed properly—it looked like anyone was about to appear and get on with daily life.

But what was it? How could it be so fear inspiring, yet the Varden remained oblivious?

Ryan sighed, a cool breeze making him shudder. It was time to report back to Eragon.

--

Eragon was in the middle of informing Nasuada about the symbol when Illera and Ryan entered the tent. Upon doing so, Illera noticed the deep shadows underneath her liege's eyes and the faint worry lines that were about to become more prominent, feeling slightly regretful as she acknowledged them. Eragon might have been the leader of the trio, but Illera and Ryan were both older than him—she even felt a bit protective, like an older sister would to a younger brother.

Eragon finished up his message, and the three Riders eyed Nasuada, who sat in silence.

"What do you feel we should do?" Eragon asked. "We are working on finding more knowledge about the symbol as fast as we can."

"Make it faster," the leader of the Varden snapped. "But I think that we can continue as planned. Our supplies are greatly added to since raiding Dras-Leona—we are making good time. I think that in three days, we can advance to the capital."

Eragon frowned. "So quickly? The dwarves have yet to arr—"

Nasuada cut him off. "Yes, so quickly! Why are you questioning me—do you not trust my judgment anymore, just like the whispers running around camp?" her eyes were wide with barely suppressed fury, her fists clenched.

Illera and Ryan exchanged looks.

"No," Eragon answered quietly. "I only wish to know the reason behind the words."

She seemed to relax. "Then you have not turned against me yet. I wish us to make double time to the capital. The dwarves are supposed to arrive within a week—if we go on ahead and they keep going without stopping, we should arrive within a fortnight of each other."

Such faulty logic! Illera was spotted rolling her eyes and exiting the tent with an irritated swish of hair.

Eragon, having decided that he couldn't reason with her anymore, asked, "Have you met with Islanzadi and the Council yet?"

"I have. They agree that there is nothing left yet to do but to push onwards."

Eragon bowed slightly. "Then I will not question your decision anymore. If you would excuse me," he nodded, straightened, and left the tent.

Smiling softly and whistling off key, Nasuada began writing a letter.

Eragon though, was scratching his head over his liege's strange behavior. What in hell was happening to the calm, rational leader he had known? Was the strain of war finally beginning to show? What was the rebellion against her she had been talking about? Why was she acting this way?

The questions swirled around him, choking him with their answers—or, rather, lack thereof. But where were the answers? Where were the damn answers—would he ever find them?

Gods. Instead of slogging his way through the murky depths of reason to find those eluding answers, he turned and went to find Arya.

--

It was all dark and quiet—the middle of the night. And until now, Ryan had been sleeping, albeit not peacefully. His dreams were marked with the golden swirl, and everywhere he went within those dreams were haunted with dark memories. And suddenly, he remembered where it came from and clawed his way to consciousness.

Fear seized him—he had to find Illera! Verify that it wasn't what he thought it was—surely the monster had died?

Ryan pulled on his clothes—they were slightly askew but he didn't notice—and bolted out of his tent to find Illera. When he reached her tent, he felt for her mind, but it wasn't there. He growled with frustration—of all times for her to become a night owl!

Checking the mazelike camp proved fruitless, and he was just checking the perimeters when a figure dropped from the clump of trees directly in front of him and started walking towards him.

"What are you doing out here so late?" Illera's voice asked him, slightly reprimanding.

"You're not my mother," Ryan couldn't help grinning—he'd found her! "And I have to talk to you."

"About what?" she asked warily. They were now side by side, making no move to go back into the heart of camp.

He took a deep breath. "The golden swirl...do you remember Eminides?"

Her expression changed to horror. "But—I thought he was dead! Didn't Terah—?"

"That bastard must have been in hiding," Ryan lowered his voice. "I thought Terah did kill him. But the symbol matches up doesn't it?"

"Damn," Illera's eyes widened. "Damn! We'll have to tell Eragon."

"Now?" Ryan asked.

"No, it's too late," Illera muttered. "We'll tell him in the morning."

Silently, they returned to camp, both thinking of what they were going to do.

--

It was the next day and noon too. Eragon and Arya still hadn't appeared, and both Illera and Ryan were reluctant to look for them in case they walked in on something, ahem, private. But finally, as she and Ryan huddled around a campfire to eat, the missing persons appeared.

"Eragon!" Ryan called out, letting a hint of irritation seep through the words. "You've finally come out. We've—" he indicated Illera and himself, "figured out what the golden swirl stands for."

Anyone could have seen that it perked up the man's interest, and he began loping towards them, Arya beside him.

"Well, what do you think it is?" he asked. "The Varden desperately needs to know."

"Eminides," Ryan answered.

Seeing the two blank looks, Illera explained, "He was this sorcerer, except much more powerful than any other. Rumor was that he became a Shade, but we'd thought he had died. This hero, Terah, came back and said he'd killed Eminides but, if his symbols' still intact, obviously not."

Eragon ran a hand through his hair, and dropped a swift kiss on Arya's forehead, saying, "I suppose I'd better report this to Nasuada. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Smiling, he went off to see her, hoping that she was in a better mood than yesterday.

Eragon knocked on the wooden frame of the tent and entered.

"Yes?" Nasuada asked, looking up from a large book.

"My lady, we have found out what the golden emblem is." Excitedly, he began telling her about the whole thing, and what Ryan and Illera had told him.

When he finished, she didn't say anything for a while.

"Do you believe that this Eminides is real—will constitute a threat?" she asked finally.

"Yes," Eragon answered, puzzled that she would ask this.

"Do you believe the two of them?" she asked.

"Of course I do Nasuada—I don't see why I shouldn't."

"You would not Eragon…you are bewitched by them. Don't you see, they are trying to bring down the Varden?"

He was definetly startled. "What—what do you mean Nasuada…in all of our battles, they have only tried to help us!"

"It's a farce!" Nasuada's eyes flashed. "They will turn on us any second—especially Illera—you cannot let yourself go under their spell!"

"Do you have any evidence of any wrong doing?" Eragon's eyes were like flinty steel—he was now asserting his power and position as Leader of the Riders.

"They do not follow me," Nasuada hissed. "And they claim to be loyal, but I do not see any of this loyalty!"

Eragon turned up the force in his eyes. "And I will not stand to have my comrades insulted like this!"

"See, even you have turned against me—joined them! I hear the rumors; I hear what they are planning to do!"

He was at loss for words. She was screaming, on her feet and hair wild.

So Eragon just walked away.

And when he returned to the campfire, Illera and Ryan were gone.

Frowning, he dropped onto the grass next to Arya, who wordlessly passed him a bowl of fruit and bread.

"What happened?" she asked. "I could feel…tensions, from here."

Eragon sighed. "Where are Illera and Ryan?" he asked, wanting to know that they would be far out of hearing.

Arya's brows knitted together. "I believe a few guards asked them to help on something."

"Nasuada thinks that they are traitors," Eragon murmured, closing his eyes when Arya took his hand.

He could sense her shock when she froze. "Why?"

"I don't know…she had never liked Illera. But now I have argued with her—relations are not good. But how am I supposed to back her against them, when they have done nothing wrong?"

Arya stood, gently pulling him up as well. "We should go look for them," and they set off.

--

Illera and Ryan were standing in a circle of Nasuada sympathizers. Throughout the entire exchange, they had repeatedly told their respective dragons not to attack the guards.

"Is there a reason why Nasuada isn't here herself? Too cowardly, perhaps?" Illera spat, hand going to her sword.

"Actually, it's because she deems you too unworthy of her attention to come," a guard snarled.

"Careful now," Illera taunted. "Wouldn't want something to…_whoops_, slipped!" a pebble came hurtling off the ground and smacked into the guard's forehead hard enough to knock him out, and he slumped over.

Now the circle was nervously murmuring. Why wasn't their leader here, to face the danger herself?

"Time to go," Ryan's arm snaked around her waist to pull her with him as a spear was thrown, and they charged out of the circle to where their dragons were waiting.

Vaulting onto their backs, the two of them threw up wards as arrows decided to pay them attention.

And all Eragon and Arya found when they reached the scene was an unconscious man and their friends gone.

--

It was three days later, the march to Uru'baen. Eragon had flown into a rage when he'd discovered what had happened, and had set out to search for his Riders. But they had covered their tracks well, and he couldn't find them.

After he'd returned, Islanzadi and Orik were the first to hear about it and the Council was temporarily replacing Nasuada as acting leader.

And they were now marching towards Uru'baen, without two of their strongest magic users.

Arya and Eragon were flying on Saphira, because he didn't want to stay with the Varden any longer than he had to. Arya also suspected that he was still harboring hope that he could find his Riders, even though his previous searches had turned up nothing.

Hope was never enough.

--

It was only when he and Arya had arrived at Uru'baen, around the same times as the forefront of the Varden's infantry (they had taken it easy on the way) that he realized his sword was gone.

--

**Short chapter, but I need to get things moving! How did you like it? Or not at all! Give me your reactions!**

**Review Replies:**

**Arya 4 ever: This chapter doesn't have that much fluff but I need it to move onto the Uru'baen battle and prophecy! I'm waiting to hear the reactions on this chapter: ) Your idea is good, I wonder if I could work it in somehow! Watch for it: D**

**Yalina: Thank you! Actually this story is a mix of some parts of the 2****nd****, 3****rd**** and 4****th**** books. I hope that doesn't mess you up!**

**Valinor's Twilight: Thank you so much!**

**xLilyPadsx: Dang for missing chapters! I hate when that happens : P. I'm not exactly happy with the way Eragon/Arya's relationship is going but I really need to focus on the plot more, not the romance [but it should be coming back as soon as possible!] The general consensus seems to be that Illera won't betray them—hee hee…lol. I hope you liked this chapter, it's long overdue!**

**MidnightAnimeAngel: I'm glad you liked this chapter! No problem on the long coming review, as long as I hear what you guys are thinking I'm happy! You're right, something big IS about to happen—but I'm not saying! : D**

**Imi: Thanks! I'm glad you like my work and the shippings : )**


	35. My Creativity Has Gone No Idea For Title

**This chapter goes out to Jackbyang7, because they felt the need to PM me and tell me to hurry and update, thus inspiring me to! Hope you see this, 'Jack!**

Eragon swore, and ripped through his belongings to look for the sword that Rhunon had broken her oath to create. This was bad—this was _beyond_ bad. Gods no!

Arya was zigzagging all across the site, turning everything over to look for it.

It was no use, it was gone. Saphira had flown back the way they had gone partially to search for its aura.

"Could you have left it behind?" Arya asked, turning to face him.

"No, it's only ever been with me, or hidden in my belongings," he sat down, dazed. Everything was going wrong! First Nasuada, then his Riders, and now…

"Eragon, the prophecy! When you need a weapon, look beneath the roots of the Menoa tree!"

Eragon lifted his head, spark of hope in his eyes. "Du Weldenvarden is so far….I must go at once. I cannot leave you alone, here…."

She shot a wry grin at him. "I am not one of your helpless females. The Council and my mother will need to know where you've gone. I will keep the men in order, as well," Arya pressed herself against him, fervently, but for only a moment.

"Thank you, Arya," Eragon bent and brushed a tender kiss on her lips, then turned to pack his saddlebags again.

Mentally sighing, Arya flashed past to begin the journey to the main army, and behind her, Eragon and Saphira took off.

--

_Early morning…_

Illera woke up, having been in an extremely light sleep the whole night, and heard a twig snap. Instantly, she was standing, hand on her sword hilt. Ryan, who had been keeping watch, was already moving forward, as silently as an elven spy.

A small shape dove forward into the bushes as cover, and Ryan chuckled.

"What was it?" Illera asked quietly, loping forward to his side.

"Just a fox," he answered. "We must be getting too paranoid."

"Anyone else would be too," she muttered, doing a quick sweep of the site to pick up any belongings.

"What do we do now?" Ryan asked. "We don't know where the Varden are at the moment."

"At the moment, I could care less where the Varden are. I only care about the dwarves, the elves, Arya and Eragon, and us," Illera muttered. "We know where they are _going_ to be; Uru'baen."

"Do we risk going there, by ourselves?"

Spitfire snorted, fire coming out of his nostrils, laughing. Ryan shot a look at the dragon, who immediately stopped, though he kept huffing and tiny flames would occasionally cover his nose.

"Dear Ryan, we are _Riders._ We should start acting like it."

"Okay. We might meet Eragon there as well," the two of them swung onto the dragons' backs, and they took off.

--

Amira asked, _**What do you think of yesterday?**_

_I felt that something from Nasuada was a long while coming. I didn't think though, at this pivotal point, that she would act, or that she would lump Ryan with me…or act in such a fashion. I don't know Amira, she seems so unstable—I know not what I've done to provoke her._

_**Eragon must be worried out of his mind.**_

_Do you think we should have left? I'm…it hurts to know that I've knowingly made Eragon and Arya need to wait without knowing what's happened to us, or where we are, and if we are alright, it doesn't feel right. But…_

_**What is done is done. The two of you could not tolerate each other—it is probably for the best, little one.**_

Illera did not reply, engrossed in her own thoughts and regrets while Uru'baen loomed ever closer.

--

Meanwhile, Eragon and Saphira flew onwards, ignoring the steadily increasing feeling of foul pressure on them. They had to make as good time as they could, but there were so many _ifs_, what if he couldn't find a weapon? What if he returned too late? What if his Riders never returned?

But it wouldn't do to be thinking defeatist thoughts.

Quickly, Eragon tied the wind to Saphira's wings to make them go faster, careful not to hold it on too tight a leash or he would be knocked out.

Instantly, Saphira covered miles more than what she had been before and flapped more quickly, as Eragon was forced to stop a few minutes later.

_Did we go far?_ He asked, fighting the urge to slump over and fall asleep.

_**Yes little one. Rest now, so that we may attempt that again.**_

_But…you need to rest too…_

_**I will hold. Rest now,**_ Saphira commanded.

Eragon didn't respond as he fell into a deep sleep.

--

_A figure, dressed in black armor that was polished till it shone, turned to look at her. He cut an impressive figure, tall and imposing; she couldn't help but take a step backwards._

_The sun was behind him, making her shield her eyes as he took off his helmet._

_Illera's eyes widened. "Murtagh!"_

_He was staring at her, and slowly, another figure rose behind him and began to drag him away. _

_Murtagh's gray eyes bore into her own, and she couldn't move as Galbatorix cackled, and suddenly black ropes began to wrap around Murtagh's body. He struggled against them, and suddenly she heard: _

"_I love you."_

She woke up in a cold sweat.

--

A few days later—

Eragon nodded to the guardian of Du Weldenvarden as Saphira flew strongly past, crossing the city in a matter of minutes and descending next to the Menoa tree. Eragon leapt off and tried to attract the attention and mind of the tree.

_Menoa…We seek your wisdom and attention. We are Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales. _

He waited for a response, but none came.

_O wise Menoa, we seek the advice and permission of you._

Saphira growled, _**It is no use Eragon. Stand back.**_

He stumbled backward, a sort of incredulity and disbelief taking over as Saphira reared and began to claw at the trunk.

_Saphira no-!_

A deep rumbling came from within the ground, and with it, the earth vibrated. Saphira kept clawing the tree, bark flying backwards; Eragon had to cover his face.

The roots lifted from the ground, spraying dirt everywhere and grabbed the two of them, lifting them in the air.

_WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?_

"We are truly sorry, but she felt it was the only way to seek your attention. It is an urgent matter; we are Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales."

_What do you seek so desperately that you have resorted to such action?_

"Within a fortnight, we are to face Galbatorix. You know of this war—and yet, my sword it no where to be found. I come to you because of a prophecy—that tells me when I need it most, I should look beneath the roots of the Menoa tree for my weapon. And surely, now is when I need it most."

_And why should I help you?_

Eragon paused. "Because if you do not, we will surely lose our lives, the war and our cause. Because if you do not, then Galbatorix will crush us and live on forever as a twisted dictatorship. Because if you do not, Alagaesia is doomed."

The tree was silent, but put them down. _And what will I get in return?_

_**Anything in our power to,**_ Saphira asserted. _**And please accept my apologies for attacking you—I felt it was my only option.**_

The Menoa did not reply, but instead the whole earth seemed to turn into liquid as her roots moved with distinctly fluid-like motions. And then, a root pulled out a sword, its sheath encrusted with decades of dirt.

_Here is your weapon. Wield it as befitting a Rider. Wield it as befitting your Father…it is well, that you carry his sword,_ the Menoa tree seemed to sigh and Eragon took it.

"What would you—" he stopped suddenly as the tree's presence rescinded into itself and did not speak anymore.

Eragon blinked, but only siphoned the dirt off the sword. It felt like the exact weight of the one he had lost, and was a little bit shorter, but it fit into his hand perfectly. It was a beautiful blue shade, tinted silver, almost the same color as Saphira. Unconsciously, he rubbed the handle, and peered at it in closer inspection.

Undbitr.

"Brom's sword," Eragon murmured, struck by the significance. _My father._

_**Wyrda, little one. Come, we must make for Uru'baen as quickly as possible.**_

With one last look at the sword, he attached the sheath to his belt, scrambled onto Saphira and they took off.

--

Illera and Ryan backed up against each other when a group of soldiers—seven or eight of them—circled around them.

"Remind me how we got into this again?" Illera muttered, unsheathing her sword.

"They ambushed us in the woods," Ryan said through his teeth. "Filthy cowardly bastards."

"You realize we'll have to kill them all?" she seemed to sigh resignedly.

"Yeah. This close to Uru'baen? Obviously."

"Wait a minute…don't kill the ones in red," she muttered in a low tone, and then raised it to say, "Don't use magic. Make it look like anyone could have done it. Let's roll.'

Illera darted out, flicking up her wards with a slight drain on her energy. The uniforms the guards wore—red and black—showed that they were a mix of Murtagh's and Galbatorix's personal troops.

And she didn't need to harm Murtagh's men.

A man in black swung his sword—she deflected the blow and parried, so close that she could see his features. He tried to stab her, but it was blocked by her wards and she lashed out, slitting his throat expertly with just the tip of her sword and he slumped to the ground. She beheaded him to get rid of the supernatural skill's evidence.

Ryan had dispatched one already and was now stabbing another through the heart.

That left one more man in black.

Illera whipped around when she sensed something, and struck out—and her eyes widened when her sword was blocked.

They narrowed again and she resumed her offense, and after several parries easily cut through his weakened defense and cut off his head.

Which meant there were three men clothed in red.

Ryan muttered a spell, which slammed the three together and tied them up with rope. Illera whispered something that made their weapons desert them and fly to her feet.

"Relax. We're not going to hurt you," Illera said calmly, sheathing her sword.

Ryan gave her an odd look. "We aren't?"

"I think these are Murtagh's men. I…I don't know, do you think he could help us, the rebellion?" Illera asked, uncertainly.

Ryan shrugged. "You know him better than I do. I've never met the man."

_Damn right I know him better. But I don't know what's happened with Galbatorix the past few months._

"Alright, then. You, what was your group doing around here?" Illera asked, pointing to the middle man.

"We…we were scouts ma'm," he stammered, struck by the fact that he was facing _rebels._

"Have any idea of Galbatorix's plans for the army?" Ryan asked, seating himself on the dirt mock casually.

"We've been training for weeks, sir," one of the first man's comrades supplied. "Been drilling for a fortnight."

"Defense of the city, or going on the march?"

"Defense, sir," the first man said, (the third and last one was knocked out).

"So no one intends to march," Illera stated flatly, a question in her phrase.

"My Lord believes that the Varden will come to him sometime in the next fortnight."

"Well, he's wrong on two accounts there. We're not the Varden, and we're here now, not in the next two weeks," Illera shot back.

"So," Ryan asked, casually withdrawing his dagger and inspecting it, proceeding to sharpen it, "Boys. Have any idea of your defenses?"

The two men gulped at the noise Ryan's sharpening stone made along the dagger's edge.

"M-My King is assembling magicians along the castle. The civilians are being conscripted into the army—but most of them are choosing to flee, sir."

"What do you think Illera? Got enough information?"

Illera surveyed them. "Yeah. Knock them out."

Ryan did so with a whispered word, and then turned to her.

"You know, I think we should sabotage the castle," he said calmly.

"I agree. But we've got to work out a decent plan first. I don't know if Shruikan or Thorn have gotten better or not, but we'd have to get out of there quickly. Sort of like hit and run."

He considered. "You've been putting spare energy into the gem on your sword hilt right?"

"Well…yes…but I thought I'd use that for the battle, what are you thinking?"

"To get out, we could tie the wind to Spitfire and Amira's wings, hold it for as long as we could and then we should be out of there."

"To exhaust their troops before the battle? With Galbatorix and Murtagh…" she trailed off doubtfully. "I think it is a good idea, but we risk getting captured, or not having energy for the battle. Oh, we need to blank the memories of these men." She and Ryan walked over to the sleeping men, touched their forehead and, as gently as possible, erased the past hour and a half.

"How much energy do you have in the gem?" Ryan asked when they were done.

Illera tested. "Triple what I feel now. When I can't sleep I put the majority of my energy into it."

"What do you think now?"

"Alright, fine, we can test it out. But we need a plan. And to get away from here, before a search party begins." Illera removed the ropes from the men, and leaped onto Amira.

"Okay. Here's what we'll do…"

--

Murtagh stiffened as he found his men unharmed, but Galbatorix's dead. The searchers had gotten a message to him as soon as possible, the magicians noting that they could feel traces of strong magic, and he and Thorn had headed out here.

He tried to reach for the magic, but it had faded and he couldn't identify it. Walking over to the dead men, he knelt to examine the death blows.

They looked normal, of mediocre talent.

What in hell?

His eyes narrowing now, he woke his men.

"My Lord!" they immediately knelt. It was a sign of the loyalty all of the men felt towards him, being a much fairer leader than Galbatorix.

Murtagh sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "Do you have to do that? Never mind. Tell me what happened."

"I…I don't remember sir," the leader said, eyes downcast. The other two only echoed what he said.

"How can you not remember?" Murtagh asked, eyes narrowing further. It wasn't a sign of displeasure; rather, he was worried now.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but when I try to remember, all I see is that we got here—and then everything is blurry, sir."

_Powerful magic users indeed to have erased their memory_…_Thorn? What do you think?_

_**If this answers your question, I do believe I smell dragon.**_

_Christ. Who?_

_**I can smell Amira.**_ Thorn did not mention the other, softer and barely detectable scent—he did not know if it was another dragon or not, though it smelled similar.

Murtagh inhaled sharply, and his men looked concernedly at him.

"I'm alright," he muttered. "Head on back to the castle."

They obeyed.

_Do…do you know if Illera was here too?_

Thorn could almost laugh at his partner's nervousness. While they both loved their respective counterparts equally, Murtagh was the one who thought of Illera much more often, was so afraid for her safety and wanted her back faster—if only to protect her himself.

_**I cannot tell…I am sorry.**_

Murtagh's shoulders seemed to slump. _But then that means that Illera was behind this! Why would she spare…_

_**Come now Murtagh. Because they are **__**your**__** men.**_

Murtagh blinked, and hurried to examine the other bodies, covering up his pleased smile as he did so. Would Illera do that?

He decided that he didn't know, but he was happy his men were alive regardless.

_**You know that the spies have reported the Varden on the move? And there is 'great unrest' with Nasuada, especially between the elves and Rider relations. There is even a threat to Eragon!**_

_Really? Who reported this?_

_**The traitor. She has abandoned the Varden and now makes way for Uru'baen. She had made contact with Galbatorix through scrying. **_

_Ah, yes. That would be why our men are being forced through Spartan training._

Thorn did not answer. _**We must head back. He will be waiting for our report.**_

_Okay._

They did not speak for the entire trip back.

--

Three days later at midnight, Ryan and Illera climbed onto their dragons, who silently took off two miles from Uru'baen. They had spent the past days in the city itself, thoroughly decked out in disguises and making notes on the defenses. Apparently Galbatorix had placed a magical ward on the castle itself, rendering it impossible to damage the stone. However, the guards were thinly spaced out on the towers and corridors—intended for archer's use when the castle was under siege—and there were always a group of magicians on hand to subtly keep them on track and ensure that the ward didn't fail.

The city was pitch black; only the rare glow was seem through shuttered windows. Except for the castle, where guards hung pitch covered torches in their brackets. The Riders swiftly put up their own wards on their dragons and themselves.

_Remember, don't breathe fire. Keep it dark; use your wings to make the torches go out,_ Ryan broadcast his thoughts to both the other two, and his own partner.

_We know,_ they chorused. _Swift, silent, deadly._

_I have taught you well, young grasshoppers,_ Ryan noted dryly as the dragons drifted on the wind currents.

_Circle right,_ he told Amira. _Take that side, we will take this side. Blackout in…three, two, one._

The two dragons beat their wings furiously from where they hovered, far enough from the castle so that they were covered in the smothering dark, but close enough that each of the flames went out.

_Move in._

The dragons drifted so close to the castles that their Riders could jump off silently, flicking up wards, and they returned to their former positions to continue beating the wind so the torches could not be reignited.

Illera stole up behind the stooped magic users in the center, who didn't even notice her. In a flash, her sword flicked out and beheaded the three of them. She didn't even blink as they crumpled, but continued, and, upon finding two guards attempting to reignite the torches, cut their throats.

If their calculations had been correct, there were another four on this side.

Silently, Illera padded along, her form barely visible, hair flying to the left by the beating of Amira's wings, now slowing as the men slumped to the ground.

Upon finding another pair of guards, she stabbed them through the heart as quickly as possible. Unlike other fighters, neither she or Ryan nor Eragon enjoyed the bloodlust of battle, and killed their opponents as painlessly as possible, as quickly as possible.

She quickly dispatched of the last two. _Amira, I'm clear. Could you—?_

_**Stay there, little one.**_

Amira swooped, and Illera leapt onto her back.

_Do you know if Ryan had any trouble?_

_**He seems to be fine. Spitfire did not say anything.**_

As they veered off, Ryan and Spitfire reached them within a few minutes.

_Hit, check. Run, __**now.**_

Illera and Ryan drew a small amount of energy from their sword hilts and increased their speed; for each flap of their dragons' wings, they covered several more miles than before, and so they flapped quickly, knowing their Riders could not keep it up for long.

Sure enough, the two humans released it in a few minutes, gasping. But by that time, they were far from Uru'baen.

_Sleep little ones,_ Amira broadcast, but they were already out.

--

Illera was pressed against a thick bricked wall when she felt someone against her back. She whirled around, sword coming up—and she froze when another sword met it, resulting in a _clang._

Her opponent stepped forward, and her eyes widened. With her enhanced sense, she knew that figure. She knew that fighting style—she knew that weapon.

"Murtagh?" she whispered, dropping her sword.

"Illera," he sheathed his sword and watched as she did the same. "I figured it was you behind this."

_Amira, tell Ryan and Spitfire to leave, __**now.**__ No one is to see them!_

_**Consider it done.**_

She gave him a bitter smile. "Funny what we have to do to survive, eh?"

Without warning, he pulled her into an embrace, feeling every inch of her against him.

"Were you the one behind the deaths in the scouting party, too?" he asked.

"Yes, I was," she murmured against his collarbone, feeling how his muscles had grown leaner, his body harder. Lord, how could she go through with this final battle? They would most certaintly have to face each other…

He released her. "How are you?" she asked, wanting to know about Galbatorix.

Murtagh understood. "As well as I could be. We think you will attack within a week—oh gods, Illera," he murmured, "We'll be fighting within the streets."

"Avoid me," she whispered. "Avoid me, and I will avoid you."

"That will never work," he answered, pain etched in his voice. "And I have little time here tonight. Here, take this," he offered her something, and she took it, gasping when she met a familiar sheath.

"Who—?"

'Trianna," he answered. "Beware, love, of Galbatorix. He may be weak, but not yet weak enough. I hope Eragon will be ready," he was melting back into the shadows.

"Until then," Illera whispered, blinking hard to deter tears, and Amira sidled up against the castle, where Illera leaped onto her back and they flew off.

--

The sabotage went on, three more times. Their timing seemed random to observers, and each time they wrought disaster. Galbatorix added more and more guards, finally adding Murtagh to watch for them.

No one knew that each day, Illera and Ryan would sidle as close to the castle as peasants could get, and note the guard numbers, or other.

It was when they spied Murtagh there that they decided to stop. In any case, they had already depleted the stocks of trained men.

It was time that they found Eragon. Little did they know that he was less than five miles from them, with the Varden as the rest of the troops gradually marched closer and closer to Uru'baen.

Ryan and Illera both attempted to scry for Eragon, before remembering that he had a necklace given to him by the dwarves that deterred that. So they scryed for Arya, and saw her setting up camp, barely a mile from the very outskirts of Uru'baen.

And they made for them.

--

_**Eragon?**_ Saphira poked her head into his tent, where he slept. _**Eragon!**_

_What?_ He asked groggily, poking his head from out of his sleeping bag.

_**Ryan, Illera, Amira and Spitfire! I…they're coming back!**_

_WHAT?_ Eragon leapt up, pulling on an elven tunic. Saphira withdrew her head, and Eragon ran out, accidentally banging his head on the wooden tent frame.

Saphira did the dragon equivalent of rolling her eyes, and pointed her snout to where what looked like two low, purple and green clouds floated in the air.

Eragon backed away and ran to search for Arya, finding her with the weapons specialist and dragging her off,

"What?" Arya asked, slightly irritated.

"They're coming back," Eragon pointed.

Her annoyance disappeared, and she gasped.

Eragon picked her up and twirled her around. Finally, something to be happy about! Things were going much better!

A few minutes later, they landed. The Riders jumped off, and Eragon and Arya ambushed them.

"Christ!" Illera yelped as Arya _gave her a hug. _Dear lord an _ELF_ gave her a hug! "I will remember this day forever!" she proclaimed dramatically.

Eragon and Ryan were laughing about something.

"What happened when we were gone?" Illera asked.

Arya's eyes seem to tighten. "Eragon's sword went missing…and a few magicians, led out by Trianna, died. She has disappeared."

Illera sucked in a breath, and held out a bundle to Eragon. "It was Trianna," she said simply.

Eragon's eyes narrowed; he unwrapped the package, eyes widening. "How did you—?"

"Murtagh," Illera said simply. "Ryan and I conducted a series of slayings on the castle—he appeared, and gave this to me."

Arya's eyes narrowed—she still did not like mention of the Red Rider.

"I think I will be fighting with two swords then," Eragon chuckled softly, drawing Brom's sword and showing it to the two Riders.

"Is that—?" Ryan broke off—neither he nor Illera had ever met Brom, the legendary ex-Rider.

"Brom's sword. My father," Eragon muttered.

They could only stare, and Arya quietly led them to the Council.

--

Illera's heart was beating faster now. After the Council had heard them out three days ago—she and Ryan were pleased to know that Nasuada was now removed of her leader privileges—they had sped up the process of war.

And now they waited outside Uru'baen's main gates, astride their dragons, about to tear down the main gates.

Fate was looming.

-

**Ack. I really hit a load of walls while writing this chapter; please forgive it as it's just to move the story along. How do you like it?**

**: ( There was only one review last chapter, was it really quite that bad?**

**Review Reply:**

**xLilypadsx: Because writers feel a bit sadistic : ) **


	36. At Least I Updated Faster

Saphira roared as she rose onto her rear legs, crashing forwards to bring the gates down. Beside her, Amira, breathing thick flames outwards towards the sky, followed, fire flickering through her maw to roast anyone behind the gates. On Saphira's other side, Spitfire roared with her, and the dragons beat their wings, spreading out through the city as their Riders put up the usual wards when arrows were streaking their way.

Behind them, the Varden poured through. Illera glanced back and saw elves step forward, ever so elegant as they destroyed the Empire's men. A slight twitch of her lips were elected from the image as she dragged her eyes forward. Eragon had already gone to find Murtagh, giving Illera explicit instructions not to let anyone get near Ryan. That was why Amira was catching up to Spitfire now.

Their orders were to cause as much death and destruction as possible.

And however much they were against it, no one could deny that they were good at it.

Illera asked Ryan, _Spot anyone?_

They both knew what she really meant: if Murtagh and Galbatorix were out.

_No. Come on, we have to wreck the city._

Both dragons crashed onto the street, their Riders leaping down to fight hand to hand. Amira and Spitfire waded through the streets, easily ripping buildings apart and setting others on fire. The objective was to create as much chaos and cover for them as possible.

Needless to say, they were succeeding.

The smoke was stifling, an easy distraction for the soldiers as Illera and Ryan faded in and out of the smokescreen, killing with ease and contempt.

_Illera, try to create a ward around your face for the smoke. You will be able to breathe more easily._

_Thanks,_ Illera replied, testing it and finding it worked well.

Ryan didn't answer.

Hours passed, and the fires were raging out of control. Illera had seen Roran, a high officer now, wielding his hammer and destroying swathes of soldiers with his band of Carvahall men. There was no way of telling how the battle fared, and reinforcements—the dwarves—still lay three days' march away

Ryan paused to catch his breath beside the wall of a dilapidated home, Illera beside him.

"It's no good," she panted. "We can't keep this up for any longer. Need to find Eragon, and face Galbatorix and Murtagh _now_, before our men die."

"We'll look for him," Ryan muttered, mind searching for his Leader.

Their dragons were behind them, having already traipsed through half the city, ripping and burning. The air was thick with smoke, the smell of burning flesh and blood.

Still they went on.

_**I see Saphira. They are near the church,**_ Spitfire rumbled. _**Eragon, Arya and a few other elves seem to be fighting beside her.**_

_We must make for them,_ Ryan said, and the two Riders returned to their dragons and took off.

Even the dragon's thick wings and powerful wingbeats were not enough to clear the air of the smoke, and a thin haze remained as they sped towards Eragon.

Spitfire and Amira turned to destroy yet another important looking mansion, and Illera headed to Eragon.

"Eragon, it's no use. Our men can't take the smoke anymore! We have to search Galbatorix out now," she cried.

Eragon turned. "I know. I'm giving you and Ryan to stay out here. Arya and I are heading into the castle."

"That's suicide--!" Illera growled, furious. "We would fight with you to the death."

"And that is what I'm afraid of! If I fall, you will still be here to continue the Riders. If we all fall, we are doomed. Arya and I, with a few of the elves Islanzadi sent to us, are going in."

"And what of your Saphira?" Ryan asked. "How can you ask that she stay out her? What if Galbatorix and Murtagh come out? It makes no sense for them to stay inside, without the other half of their power."

"Arya reported no sign of Shruikan," Eragon said. "And if we do not come to them, they will not come out. We leave now!" their party turned into the castle's entrance and, with Saphira's help, easily tore the door away and poured in.

Ryan growled, and leaped onto Spitfire as they disappeared into the smoke, not bothering to tell Illera where they were headed.

She was torn between following her orders, or following her Leader inside.

_Amira…_

_**Illera, we must find Spitfire! Now!**_

_What—why?_

_**Thorn! Murtagh and Thorn are headed towards him—neither Ryan nor Spitfire have ever faced them before! **_

_Fuck!_ Illera scrambled onto Amira's back, and they followed Ryan's path, and heard a bloody roar.

_**Thorn!**_

A jet of ruby flame illuminated the sky for a brief moment, and disappeared.

_Hurry, Amira!_

--

Inside the castle, Eragon and his group of four silently slunk around corners, attempting to find Galbatorix. No one dared to split up. Outside, noises from the battle—metal on metal, screams of the dying and war cries—were heard. Then a crash, which boomed and shook the castle.

Arya glanced at him, but he determinedly stared straight ahead. Now was his time, his destiny, his fate.

They continued forward, now approaching the throne room. Eragon opened the door ever so slightly, so he could see.

Galbatorix sat on the throne, in full armor. Powder radiated off of him—how was he still so powerful after Eragon had destroyed the Vault of Souls?

Suddenly, Eragon stopped.

"Return to the battle," he whispered. "I must face him alone."

The two elves bowed, and departed. But Arya remained.

"You could not get rid of me," she whispered, her features heartbreakingly lovely. "I am not one of your helpless females," she continued, eyes glistening.

He sighed. "I could not ask you to leave, when I need you beside me," he murmured. "But fate meets reality, today."

He drew Brom's sword, keeping his own hidden within the same sheath, and pressed forward.

--

_At the same time:_

Ryan swore when he turned his head and Murtagh and Thorn were gaining on them.

_**I cannot outrun them, can you feel the magic?**_

_Then we will stand and fight._

_**But Ryan—**_

_We will not be cowards; if we die, we die with honor._

_**I would prefer not to die at all.**_

Spitfire landed, in a patch of land that was slightly charred, but otherwise perfect for dueling. Ryan leaped off and stopped a few meters in front of his dragon.

Thorn slammed onto the earth, roaring, and lit the grass in front of him on fire as Murtagh strode forward, creating quite the impressing image as his Rider emerged from the flames.

"So the last egg hatched after all," Murtagh sneered. Thorn had to hide a snort at this, because if Illera appeared, his evil image would be ruined permanently as he turned into the kind of soppy man that he detested.

"Who're you?" he demanded.

Ryan didn't answer.

Murtagh's lips thinned. If this new Rider refused to talk and delay the inevitable, then he had no choice. He could already feel Galbatorix's orders bearing down on him, and knew he would have to attack in a few minutes or less.

And now his movements weren't his own; he was bound to his master's orders and his arm drew Zar'roc, and he lunged forward.

Ryan flicked his arm upwards, parrying, eyebrow rising slightly as he felt Murtagh's power. The man wasn't just talented, he was strong too.

And Ryan was already wondering how he could keep this up.

Behind Thorn, Amira swept her tail around to prevent Illera from putting herself between the two men.

_**Ryan needs this. He has been overshadowed by both you and Eragon; he needs to prove himself. He will not be happy if you interfere.**_

_Fuck proving himself, what if he __**dies**__? How could I live with myself, knowing Murtagh is under that __**lunatic's**__ rule, and killed him without I doing anything? _Illera asked heatedly, but acknowledged the truth in Amira's word.

She turned and vented her frustration on a group of soldiers, destroying them in a matter of minutes.

The blaze in her eyes promised battle fury.

--

"So, Shadeslayer. We finally meet," Galbatorix made no move to get off of his throne. "Can I be so hopeful to presume that this is your surrender to me?"

"Sorry to disappoint," Eragon said. "But we will soon see who deserves to surrender."

Galbatorix finally rose. "Last chance, to save yourself and your pretty little elven maid."

Eragon noted that Galbatorix was a surprisingly petite little man, shorter than Arya, his black hair peppered with grey and white. The expression on his face was of pure disdain.

"I would rather fight." Eragon drew some of his strength from the gem in his sword's hilt, and braced himself.

"So be it," Galbatorix hissed, and lunged forward with incredible speed. Eragon felt the beginnings of the movement though, and parried, slicing downwards to block the movement.

Arya stood nearby, knowing she could not interrupt this battle as it was too fraught with destiny, but feeling useless, even as she knew that if Eragon fell, it would be up to her to carry on.

Galbatorix pulled his sword back to him. "Not bad," he said, "Brom's teachings. I wondered if he had gotten to you," and struck again.

This time Eragon bent over backwards to avoid the sword, right hand flicking upwards to deflect it and regain his balance. He swiped at Galbatorix, feeling the solid defense as he hissed back, "Shut your mouth. It is time for actions, not words," and their swords clanged.

Eragon stumbled backwards as Galbatorix slammed his sword against Eragon's, shoving the younger man away.

He hit the cool slate with a thud, and Galbatorix took aim at his heart.

--

Illera felt like time was going by much too slowly as she watched both Riders spar. She couldn't even bring herself to watch most of it, and went off to appear behind groups of soldiers and kill them all. Then, she would return to Ryan and Murtagh's battle, watch for a few more minutes, and disappear again, repeating the process.

Even she didn't know what she was waiting for.

An hour passed, and the two Riders were still sparring through the smoke. Illera wondered how Ryan was able to stand it, but sensed him weakening, and Murtagh's strokes becoming stronger, surer. So he hadn't been using his full power on Ryan yet? That was frightening, as the talent she witnessed was equal to Eragon's.

It was time she stopped it. Withdrawing more energy from the gem on Aie's hilt, she drew her sword.

Illera made her way forward, completely silent, only making her move when Ryan slipped in the grass and she leaped forward, metal on metal clanging as she blocked Murtagh's death blow.

His eyes were shocked. "I thought you said to avoid each other," he said, voice too low for Ryan to hear.

Illera grimaced, pressing the two of them forward and away from Ryan. "Couldn't be helped," she answered, and Murtagh struck again, eyes showing his horror as he attacked her. Illera parried again, the thick haze of smoke coming in between them and her eyes watered from the sting of it.

He was strong; she wondered how Ryan had stood so long against him. Illera wasn't sure if she could, physically or emotionally. She could only bring herself to defend against him—to attack wasn't an option.

Would that work, against the force of Galbatorix's power?

She would find out soon enough.

--

Eragon twisted out of the way, and sent a blast of magic that hit Galbatorix right in the chest. He simply laughed derisively as it was absorbed.

"Fool! Do you think that you could beat me, I, who was practicing a hundred years before you were even born?"

Eragon didn't bother answering as he leapt to his feet again, now circling around the throne.

He had to end this quickly—Galbatorix was right, he still didn't have as much of a chance against him. What kind of advantage did he have against the evil King then? He had an extra sword, and Galbatorix didn't know what kind of training he had received.

That was pretty much it.

_**Little one! Thorn tells me that Galbatorix has not sparred in quite sometime. Perhaps he will not be as agile,**_ Saphira advised.

_Thank you,_ Eragon thought back as he sliced at Galbatorix, nicking his armor slightly.

That was another thing. He doubted the man could move quite that well in his armor—though, in his armor, how was he supposed to kill him? Galbatorix guarded his face too well.

Suddenly, a rumble in the castle's very foundations began, growing stronger and stronger. Neither of the two Riders paused to wonder what it was, but vibrations made it harder and harder to duel.

And then the castle was opened to the heavens, Saphira's jaws widened in a roar as she tore off the castle's roof; their wards having long since gone to reduce energy loss.

Apparently, Shruikan had been in the castle itself. Now, he rose, binding chains snapping easily to meet Saphira's challenge, forced to by Galbatorix's binding spells.

Galbatorix stared up at her briefly in shock, and Eragon took the opportunity to hack into his armor.

But his sword got stuck in the black, extremely strong metal. He tugged at it, attempting to dislodge it to no avail.

Galbatorix looked back down at him, sneering. "Elven armor," he said by way of explanation, and stabbed downward.

--

Murtagh flicked his sword-tip up, ready to kill, and Illera had no choice but to dodge out of the way, kicking his feet out from under him and leaping away. Ryan and Spitfire were since long gone, aiding the Varden in some other way.

He crashed to the grass, swearing softly.

"That was a dirty trick," he growled.

"I never said that I played fair," Illera whispered. The smoke and ash was getting to her, making her feel light-headed and her eyes watering so that she looked like she was crying.

He leapt up again. "Do you know what Galbatorix's orders are doing to me?" he asked, Zar'roc whistling through the air.

Illera slashed her sword, blocking the blow and stepping aside. "No," she answered.

"They're forcing me to fight you," he muttered. "I'm practically dying with the effort not to do my very best," and he, with the hiss of metal on metal, dislodged Aie from her grip and sent it flying.

The pain in his eyes was heartbreaking, and she dove for her sword to avoid looking at him. And then she froze when her fingers curled around the sword hilt, and she felt something cold poke into her back.

"Illera, run," he whispered. "Don't make me do this."

--

Several things happened.

Arya launched herself at Galbatorix, pulling upwards and tearing off his armor as he struck downwards. He writhed in shock, and Arya leapt off as the man missed Eragon even as the latter twisted out of the way, drawing his sword and swinging with such strength that he tore clean through Galbatorix's body.

He was dead.

Galbatorix, the evil king, was dead.

The two halves of his body thumped to the floor, and gore dripped off of Eragon's sword as he leveled it, and knelt, panting.

Arya ran at him and he dropped his weapon, lifting her off the floor in a tight embrace, and grinned madly.

"Oh Lord," she said hoarsely, and he grinned victoriously as he caught her lips in a victorious embrace.

It was the sweetest victory either of them had known.

A roar was heard outside, as each of the dragons opened their jaws and jeweled flame shot into the air in victory.

"Come," Eragon grinned, "We must return and tell them of his death."

Saphira landed in the room, crushing most of the furniture, and Arya and Eragon scrambled up onto her back, and they took off.

--

Murtagh gasped when he felt his bonds lift, and he fell onto one knee, shoulders sagging as he felt the terrible presence disappear. His eyes were closed as he struggled to get used to the strange feeling of being free, when he sense someone in front of him.

His eyelids opened, and he saw Illera in front of him, looking so _worried._

"Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes amazingly clear.

Murtagh, not being able to speak, simply leaned forward and kissed her.

--

The battle ended soon after the rumors that their king was dead spread, and the Empire's forces surrendered. Now, the Riders and Arya were traipsing to Council to hear casualties, and their next move.

Illera and Murtagh were inseparable, walking next to each other and speaking through their minds, looking happier than they have been for a long, drawn out year.

Arya and Eragon were the same, though quite the more mellow sort of happiness.

Ryan had come up to her discreetly, saying, "You should've told me that he was your—er…um, that he was your _strongest opponent,_" he reworded as Islanzadi walked past. "Seriously, then I wouldn't have gotten in the way, just thrown you out there to take him on," he grinned.

She had laughed. "Come off it, you know that you needed that spar," she teased, a huge burden lifted from their shoulders and they became lighthearted again.

Now, they settled at Council. Murtagh waited outside with Thorn and the dragons, left alone by the rest of the camp, who eyed him warily.

"The main issue here is how we are going to organize our next form of government. And…there is also the issue of the Red Rider," Jormundur said, avoiding Murtagh's gaze.

"What is the latter issue?" Illera asked calmly.

"He fought on Galbatorix's side of the war," Jormundur answered. "Against us."

"I can assure you that he fought against his will," Eragon leaned forward and stated.

"But still—"

"Not meant to offend, but honestly, would anyone fight on that lunatic's side of their own free will?" Ryan scoffed.

Jormundur glared at him. "Willingly or not, his actions should speak for themselves."

"May I point something out? If he was truly sympathetic to Galbatorix, we would all be dead at this point in time," Illera said coldly, her eyes flashing.

Everyone could feel the uneasiness that emitted from the Council, being only human and only commanders, and the pure power that was radiating from the Riders. For some reason, none of them were about to let the Red Rider face trial.

"You have pledged yourself to the Varden," Jormundur said uneasily.

Eragon interrupted. "I pledged myself to Nasuada, as long she was Leader of the Varden. None of my Riders did. And as she is now deposed as leader…" he let the threat hang.

Islanzadi finally spoke. "What if we could see into his mind? Such like the Varden had screened people before letting them into Farthen Dur."

"He would never allow that," Illera said.

Eragon murmured as well.

"Could he just pledge himself to Eragon, and say, in the Ancient language, that he had not supported Galbatorix personally?" Arya asked.

"Yes, that would work," Islanzadi mused.

No one dared to go against her.

Finally, Jormundur murmured, "So be it."

--

Roran threw himself down in his tent, arms shaking as he pulled off his bloody armor arduously.

How many men had he killed now?

Hundreds, he felt. At the very least, hundreds.

Or why would he feel this maddening burden of guilt?

Someone entered the tent, and he opened his eyes, adjusting them to the bright sunlight as the flap opened.

It was Katrina.

Wordlessly, she sat down beside him, and he sighed, pulling her to him gently and burying his face in her shoulder. Absently, his fingers stole down to her pregnant, swollen stomach, rubbing lightly.

Neither of them spoke as they drew comfort from each other's company.

--

Illera took a seat next to Murtagh, both of them leaning against the same tree on the outskirts of the Varden camp.

"What's going to happen?" he asked quietly, fingers tracing the gem in Zar'roc's hilt.

Her breath caught in her throat, to think that she could sit next to him again. "They want you to pledge yourself to Eragon," she began.

Murtagh looked at her. "That isn't so bad. I would do that in a heartbeat."

"They also want you to say, in the Ancient language, that you didn't support Galbatorix of your own free will," she murmured, her own hand tapping on the dirt.

"That isn't quite as dire as I had thought," he answered. "Did you, or Eragon—?"

"I simply said you would, ah, object to having your mind examined," she said, blinking as his hand slipped over her own.

"I wonder who will be the next King," he murmured. "But also, I feel that I could care less. Enough of the cities, I wish to see the wild of Alaegasia. Illera, if I ran from this, from all of this, would you accompany me?"

"Yes," she answered instantly. "I would."

He smiled.

And she smiled, that she could see his again.

--

**Didn't cover quite as much as I wanted to in this chapter. But its…ALMOST OVER!! Maybe like four chapters max. Oh my god! This life-sucking fiction is almost over! I'm so excited. **

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**Queen of Everything Pineapple: Hm I've gotten like 3 reviews saying that, I didn't know Aie in Chinese was love. Weird. I just made it up. No Illera isn't Chinese, ugh I did all that 'Oriental' stuff in the early chapters and regret it now. blergh. Rated T for a reason ;-) **


	37. We're Almost There

Illera and Murtagh spent all of their time together. It was impossible to find one of them without the other, and Ryan, Arya and Eragon had begun to say, when asking for them, if anyone knew where "Illera and Murtagh" were.

Arya could see the devastation that flitted through Vanir's features though, when he saw how happier Illera was, the pure devotion that the Riders shared, the depth of their relationship.

She could only watch as Vanir realized that he had never had a chance with Illera, that Murtagh had always been the only one she could love, that Vanir had only ever been a spar partner to her, watch as his cool elven composure was broken.

Her heart went out to him, even as the preparation for a new government was taking up most of the important figures' spare time. And Eragon was obsessing over the prophecy, because there was still the 'great journey' he would undertake, and never set foot in Alagaesia again. It was the only thing that he still did not understand in Angela's Prophecy.

But reports across the fallen Empire spoke of a disturbance in the land. It had begun at Helgrind; where the mountain exploded, covering Dras-Leona with lava that had taken days to cool. Hundreds had died, and the city become a ghost town as its residents fled.

Teirm also faced havoc, resulting from overly large waves crashing upon the beaches, so large that permanent flooding occurred. Many citizens packed up and moved inland.

But even inland wasn't safe.

A huge drought had struck, rendering entire swathes of farmland dry as a bone and infertile, and wild fires were occurring far too frequently.

It was almost as if the country was mourning Galbatorix's death.

Could that be? Eragon wondered. Had Galbatorix somehow struck a deal with the devil? After everything he had been through, it didn't seem quite so unlikely.

He had been poring over reports that had came in from all over the land, each saying the same thing—poverty and crime were at an all time high, trading and farming an all time low, and citizens were losing heart even with Galbatorix dead.

With the Varden victorious over the man, it was laughable at how they struggled now to regain control of the country.

Eragon rubbed his neck ruefully. Maybe it was a sign. But no matter, he would think on this later.

--

Two weeks later, the entire country was in a panic. Everything had worsened to ten times the effects—half of Teirm had been washed away, there was permanent ash hovering around the Dras-Leona area, there were raging fires on the plains and Farthen Dur had begun experiencing earthquakes.

Now, Eragon and Arya and Ryan had flown back to Ellesméra to research why everything was happening.

Illera and Murtagh had left with their dragons to explore Alagaesia, promising to return to Ellesmera when they had finished and to see the options left to them. It might have seemed selfish, but they were also going to see the full extent of the damage that was occurring. There was only so much that scrying could do.

And so, the war was still not over yet.

--

Illera slid off of Amira as they landed at Vroengard, taking a stand on a flat rocky outcropping to survey the island. Murtagh came to a stop beside her, sweeping his gaze around the Rider's ancient headquarters.

The place was in ruins, obviously, lost grandeur toying with the remains of the buildings—here are there the architecture was still beautiful, still regal, but for the most part completely destroyed. It was dead silent, and every one of their dragons' quiet huffs echoed unnaturally loudly.

His arm soon found itself wrapped around her shoulders as they made their way off of the rocks and down to the pavilion. Everywhere, there were evidence of carnage; broken eggshells, rusted bits of armor and even bones.

It was eerie, and Illera was glad for him beside her as they explored the place. There was a wide hall that Illera supposed was a sort of meeting place, a nest large enough for quiet a lot of dragons, Rider rooms and just about everything else.

Being there, seeing the history of everything that embodied her and her closest friends, it was incredible. And Illera suppressed a shiver when she realized that they would have lived here, would have been trained as normal Riders if the Fall had not occurred. It was impossible not to wonder. But she asked Murtagh a question about a different sort of fate.

"What do you think is happening to Alagaesia?" she murmured.

"I don't know," Murtagh answered, just as quietly, drawing her close. "But ever since Eragon told me his worries over his prophecy, I wonder what if this land becomes unsuitable for living? What do we do then?"

Illera didn't know, and they walked on.

--

Two weeks later, in Ellesmera, Eragon, Arya and Ryan still didn't have any idea why Alagaesia seemed to be destroying itself. But then, in the huge library, they had only been through about a third of it, even when they enlisted practically every other elf to help. It seemed like this was the first time the phenomenon had occurred in Alagaesia, and they were losing hope to find any information about it.

But still they went on.

And finally, when Eragon had already given up hope and was finishing his training with Oromis, an silver-haired elf he had never seen before approached. Oromis had gone into his hut.

"Shadeslayer," she greeted him, bowing deeply, and Eragon noticed the signs of extreme age on her face. This elf had to be ancient, for he had never seen one with the lines she bore. "_Atra esterní ono thelduin."_

"_Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr,"_ Eragon said back, bowing slightly.

'_Un du evarínya ono varda,"_ she finished. "I am Glodiya. I have heard of the troubles that plague Alagaesia."

Eragon inclined his head, waiting for her to continue.

"I am one of the descendants of an elven advisor, who aided his leaders in leading the elves to Alagaesia, from their homeland. For hundreds of years, I and a group of others have dwelled in the depths of a secret maze of caves in Du Weldenvarden, guarding records of that time. No one else knows of their existence, and our decision to keep it as such was justified as Galbatorix overthrew the Riders. Save for us, no being knows why we left Alaea. But now, with the events occurring now bringing to mind what happened thousands of years ago, it is crucial that you come with me to read what my forefather wrote."

Eragon was rising. "Lead me to these records."

And now they were flitting through the forest, and it seemed so long until they stopped in front of a thick wall of slate. Both of them were perspiring slightly, even with their elven abilities.

Glodiya murmured something, and the center of the wall seemed to melt away, creating a doorway.  
Eragon was taken aback at the inside of the cave. It was as if they had sung the rock—much like the rest of their race sung trees—into everything they needed; beds, chairs, anything.

"Shadeslayer," the elves inside immediately rose and bowed. Like Glodiya, they all bore signs of advanced age.

Eragon bowed slightly to them, showing respect for them. "Greetings," and he was soon made to sit.

Two elves disappeared, and came back a few minutes later carrying an engraved wooden box reverently, and set it on the table in front of Eragon.

With an inquiring look at Glodiya, who nodded, he lifted the lid.

--

_**The first of the sixth month, of the third year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_Twisters rip through our carefully tended to farmland as if they were the flimsy paper dolls our children play with. Our food is destroyed—another crop lost, and dirt is discovered in every nook and cranny, here in the center of our land. To the west, our towns are destroyed by tornadoes of the sea, tearing up ages-old trees and flinging them every which way. People drown, and they are moving inland. To the east, it has not rained for so long that men drop dead of thirst and animals collapse in the heat. The earth is as dry as the fabled land without rain, and fires rage out of control daily. Smoke and ash are our constant companions. _

_As I write this, hundreds of us are seeking answers and solutions, ready to bring our families to a land that is habitable. Legend tells us that other races exist in other lands, and yet still of a place so glorious and beautiful, so lush and similar to our own. There are rumors of a race so dangerous, huge lizards as large as our mountains, wild and primitive, but now we are more and more willing to risk those monsters and live in their land instead of our own._

_Oh Alaea, Alaea, why have you betrayed us so?_

_**The twentieth of the sixth month, of the third year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_It is unbearable. Our race must leave, or suffer the mass destruction that is guaranteed if we stay. Already, thousands are dead, and our lord is thinking of our options._

_I must aid him._

_**The seventeenth of the seventh month, of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_After much negotiating with the town leaders of Alaea, we have decided to leave our country, and go to the land of the dragons. We are building huge ships as we speak on the western coast, with every worker who builds receiving provisions, and a proficient worker receives more._

_It is an effective way to create a building frenzy._

_We know not how many will come with us, but it is looking like many hundreds. Our ships will need to be large enough to withstand the huge waves crashing upon our shores, and we do not know how many elves will need to reside in each._

_I must go now._

_**The twenty-fourth of the eighth month of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_It is done. Our ships are completed. Just in time, because our land seems to be completely desecrate now. We are boarding now, loading provisions, and will leave at the end of the month. The ships are huge; I feel big enough to house one of those 'dragons' that they speak of. But I have not been on one of our fleet yet._

_**The thirtieth of the eighth month of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_We are at sea. It was quite an ordeal pushing out into deeper water until we caught wind, but we are making good time. Quite a few have caught seasickness, and I wonder how long the journey will be. Only vague tales guide us, yet we still are leaving our homeland. It shows how dire the situation is._

_**The second of the tenth month of His Majesty Feramore's reign,**_

_Land has been spotted. After this poor voyage, with many dying of disease in these cramped quarters, we cannot wait to land in this new place. We do not know how far we have traveled, because the winds pushed us on and on, but from what we can see, the land looks only slightly similar to our own. No matter. If we must adapt by changing our entire lifestyles, we will._

That was the last entry.

Eragon looked up at Glodiya. "So they left for the same reasons that are occurring now."

She nodded. "It is unknown why this is happening, but it will continue to worsen. The only hope is for us to leave."

"Is that truly the only option?" Eragon asked, frown creasing his forehead.

"Whether or not you believe so, we will send word of this to both Islanzadi and King Orik. It is of too much importance, and if we continue to reference these records, we do not have enough time to take with us all of our history if we dawdle."

He nodded, understanding. "So we must make like the elves did? We must leave Alagaesia?"

Glodya hesitated before saying, "That possibility is growing more and more likely."

--

Illera frowned as she struggled through the town of Narda, to buy provisions. The town was empty, even as the gales of wind tore off another rooftop and water sloshed around her boots. It was early in the morning, and she shuddered to think that it would worsen in the later afternoon.

After searching the town, she returned to their makeshift camp and shook her head. There was no one to buy from.

Murtagh frowned, and they took off amidst the hurricane like winds, flying desperately to their next destination: Teirm.

When they got there a few days later, having been hunting the whole time, it was gone.

Simply gone.

Disappeared.

And the waves crashed down upon where so many buildings had once stood…

--

Eragon returned to Oromis' glade to tell him, Arya and Ryan of his discovery.

"Is this it then? The fulfilling of your prophecy, and we are to leave our homes—the only home we have known?" Ryan asked.

"It seems like it," Eragon murmured. "We must wait for Murtagh and Illera's report on the state of all the towns."

"Do you think she will return safely?" Arya asked, and the use of 'she', not 'them' rang out harshly. It was obvious that she didn't like Murtagh, and perhaps didn't think that he cared for Illera.

"I do," Eragon said evenly. "I think they will return safely. Murtagh wouldn't let anything happen to her, and she is too smart for anything to get close to them."

Arya turned away, lips pressing into a thin line, and abruptly said, "I am going to begin packing," and left.

Ryan threw a look at Eragon. "You do know why she disapproves of the man right?"

"Why?" Eragon asked, running his hand through his hair and exhaling. He still considered Murtagh the same comrade he had been throughout their journey to the Varden.

"Because of Vanir," Ryan said. "You didn't see him when he realized that Illera is completely _besotted_ with Murtagh. The look on his face was devastation."

Eragon sighed. "That cannot be helped. Now, I think I must take Glodiya and her documents back to Uru'baen, where the leaders are, and explain," he rose and began to repack his belongings.

Ryan nodded. "Hurry."

--

And now, Eragon's work in relaying the message done, he and Glodiya sat back to wait for the leader's decision.

"Could we not simply move across the Hadarac Desert? Must we leave Alagaesia entirely?" Orik asked.

"Yet who is to say that across the Desert such things aren't happening as well? No one has been across or seen it and be able to scry it," Islanzadi said, her features visibly upset. Both she and Orik were very reluctant to grasp this idea because it would require immense effort to take all of their history with them.

Eragon didn't say anything.

Another of the Council members asked, "How long do we have until the land becomes too disrupted?" The Council was pushing to stay, believing that it was a phase that would soon pass. Orik and Islanzadi knew though, however much they didn't want it to be true, that history always repeated itself and they should keep that in mind.

"According to these reports, I believe we have a week to decide what to do. After that, preparations must be completed within three fortnights and we must leave."

"We will confer," Islanzadi sighed and they continued the debate.

--

Eragon already knew what they would say as Jormundur stood to announce to the city that Alagaesia's entire population would have to be shepherded onto giant ships, live on the ship for god-knows-how-long and sent to god-knows-where. His words were met only by a stunned silence and he continued with his details.

It had been decided that the elves would begin singing slabs of wood into shape and dwarves and humans would then put them together on the coast off of Surda.

And now, with that decided, he and Glodiya were going back to Ellesmera to begin proceedings.

--

Thorn's wings beat strongly, pumping the ash that hovered in the wind away from their group. Murtagh and Illera had decided on Dras-Leona for their next destination, and then they would be heading towards the Beor mountains afterwards.

From on their dragon's backs, the Riders surveyed the damage.

The area was completely filled with charcoal-covered cinders. Helgrind's lava had cooled days ago, and half of Dras-Leona was covered in the thick-concrete like mixture, sucking anything that hadn't gotten away fast enough into it.

Illera looked away, not wanting to look at the sight anymore, and Murtagh's eyes raked through the landscape thoroughly before the group left, thinking that the situation was so much more dire than they had thought.

--

**Looking at around three chapters left for this damn story. I cannot wait until I mark this complete. Hate it, yeah, I do. Hate my earlier writings. Hate the huge drawn out ness of it. Hate that Chris P's writing ability seems to have diminished with Brisingr.**

**End rant.**

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	38. Chapter 38

**Last Chapter! Up next is Epilogue.**

**--**

It was a few weeks later, and everyone was exhausted. Everyone, magic users or not, had been working on a fleet of massive galleons; each half the size of Galbatorix's castle. And each of the ships had taken twenty to thirty elves' full magic to create, all imbued with the sort of charms and spells so that even millennia later, Illera doubted they would deteriorate.

Each man had worked stiffly, speaking only in grunts and hoarse cries to warn against danger, the weight of destiny and fate bearing down upon them as they struggled against the warring elements.

It wasn't fair that they were being driven from their homes, not after the centuries of _belonging_ to Alagaesia…but Illera pushed these thoughts aside. It was the only way.

Her soft leather boots made only muffled thumps as she took her time walking from one end of the flagship to another. Illera was alone; having wanted time to clear her head and say goodbye to the land she had known.

Her elbows came to rest on the wooden railing, eyes scanning the mountains smudged in the backdrop.

Illera couldn't wait to be on the move. Staying only created more attachment. They only needed the last of the Elven and Dwarven artifacts to be stored aboard the thirty ships designated for their use, and they would be off.

Breathe in, breathe out.

--

"Will the Urgals and Kull join us in the move across the sea?" Arya asked Nar Garzhvog politely in one of the few safe places left in the land. It was here, in the eerie Spine, that had the least dangers.

He shook his head and rumbled, "No," in a thick voice. "We are not suited for the sea as our forefathers were. We will travel across the Hadarac to try our fortunes there."

"Are you sure?" Eragon asked worriedly. He would hate to leave anyone he knew behind. "We could assist you in building your ships."

Garzhvog gave a hacking sound that could have been interpreted as a laugh. "You could, yes, but it would be of no use when the ship capsized because of the Kulls' sizes."

Arya frowned.

"Firesword, there is nothing we will do to leave our home," Nar Garzhvog said. "It is ours, by right."

Eragon finally nodded. "So be it. I wish you all the best and hope that someday we might meet again."

"As do I, Firesword, as do I."

--

Illera closed her eyes as a few elves and Riders combined their energy to push the massive galleons out to sea. It was harder than she had thought, and their energy was draining quickly. Amira and Thorn were ferrying the exhausted elves to their main ship as the huge fleet began to push out to sea. The ship carrying Islanzadi, Orik, and the Council had been the first one pushed out and the rest had teams of elves and dwarves—the main builders of each ship—captaining them.

They all stood out in the sea, the water sloshing around their boots as they pushed another ship out. Illera felt the familiar drain of her energy, and gasped as soon as they were finished.

It couldn't be that she was the only one feeling this weak, right?

_Little one, are you alright?_

_**I'm okay,**_ Illera thought back to a concerned Amira. _**It's harder than I thought.**_

The waves sloshed over her again, making her scowl. But she looked up, startled, as someone came up next to her

'Course it was Murtagh.

"'Morning," she smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Are you alright?" he asked carefully, knowing how much she hated having people try and help her.

"I'm okay," she answered, glancing up at the sky and squinting her eyes at the glaring sun.

He didn't press for more details. Instead, he slipped his arm around her and discreetly let some of his energy flow into her.

Illera's eyes tipped shut as it reenergized her. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I needed that."

Murtagh held her for another few seconds before breaking their contact to push another ship out to sea.

"Only fifteen more, love," he said quietly, and they traipsed on.

Finally, they were to return to the flagship. Eragon and Arya had already gotten there, and were watching the shore silently.

Spitfire and Saphira took off from the sand with elves on their backs, circling to get a gist for the wind and then flew towards the elves' main galleon.

Eragon's eyes were wide and unfocused as he stared, startled.

Arya glanced at him, concerned. "What?"

"My vision," he murmured. "I think…that was it."

Even as he spoke, a wave of flame crashed down upon the deserted shore of Alagaesia, sending up charcoal smoke into the already black sky.

Arya just looked at him. Eragon knew she didn't truly believe in prophecy—not that she was fool enough to say that in front of Angela.

Eragon felt curiously relieved of a great burden. No longer would he have to worry about his prophecy! No longer would he have to think long hours into the night about what Angela had meant, what had past and what was coming.

"Ho! Man overboard!" A dwarf shouted, cutting into his reverie.

Immediately, the two of them shot towards the railing, eyes raking the inky waters for a splash of white foam to indicate something had disturbed it there.

"Who is it?" Arya demanded of an onlooker.

"Lady Nasuada! She had a dagger in her hand, and—_look!_" he pointed at the varnished deck near the railing.

Spatters of congealing blood.

"Eragon, you have to use magic to raise her. You can't go after her and expect to come back up with the both of you!" Arya cried out after Eragon had started to unbuckle his sword.

"You're right," his eyes flashed and he leaned over the rail, muttering quickly and bringing the energy that would lift Nasuada.

She was forebodingly still as her soaked dress seemed to weigh her down, drooping at least three feet below her body. As Eragon brought her up with a renewed sense of urgency, Nasuada turned and everyone could see the blood that stained the orange fabric.

Illera and Murtagh landed on the deck and leaped off of their respective dragons, racing to where Eragon frantically checked for a pulse.

A very faint beat thrummed, and Eragon knew that there was nothing he could do.

He looked into his former liege's eyes, which were beginning to roll upwards.

"Why?" he whispered.

Eragon saw her eyes flick to Murtagh's features as the life began to fade from them, and he understood.

Illera was standing stock still next to Murtagh; the blank expression on her face sharply contrasting to Murtagh's shocked one.

Nasuada's eyes flicked to Illera's features, giving her one last malevolent look, drew a last rattling breath and then released the life-giving air and closed her eyes.

Eragon stepped away from her body, and glanced at Illera.

"You don't look surprised," he accused softly.

She shrugged. "I had a suspicion that that was why she never liked me." Her eyes were carefully blank, her mind well guarded. Eragon wasn't surprised. It seemed like the only people she let into her mind now were Amira and Murtagh.

Illera looked up as Amira descended next to her, and he guessed that she was filling the purple dragon in.

"You never said—" Eragon began.

"About Nasuada's dislike for me? Why would I?" Illera glanced at him, and suddenly he saw what everyone else in their fleet only saw: an icy, withdrawn, powerful Rider. But he knew Illera, knew that whatever she said, she was intensely loyal to her friends…

Eragon just shook his head, and Murtagh brought Illera with him as they moved off, talking lowly.

"Did you know?" he asked Arya quietly. "About Nasuada…?"

Arya shrugged. "The first time they met, they had cast favorable impressions upon each other. It is not hard for a human woman to become infatuated easily, though I thought Nasuada was above that."

Eragon jerked his head. "Didn't Illera feel the same way about Murtagh? I would have thought she was above it too."

"Eragon, they are human." Her eyes seemed to flash, and he sighed.

"I suppose we had better hold the funeral. What are we going to do with the body?"

"We could always throw it over the side," Arya said thoughtfully.

Eragon looked horrified. "And show her no honor?"

"Unless you wish to save it until we reach the new land," she snapped.

Eragon started to object, and then thought better of it. "We will decide later."

--

Illera was still mulling over Nasuada's glare. It wasn't the act that surprised her—she had always known full well the ex-Varden leader hadn't liked her—it was the note of self-satisfaction that told her something was wrong.

Where were Nasuada's living quarters? Oh yes…somewhere near the guards, so there was always someone to keep an eye on her. Illera would begin there first in her search for anything wrong.

Murtagh reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, wondering why she wasn't responding to him.

"Illera?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She seemed to snap to attention. "Yeah?" and began striding away from him.

"Where are you going?" his voice rose slightly, alarmed by her speed.

"To look for answers," she called back.

Murtagh hurried after her. "For what?"

Illera couldn't explain it to him, didn't know how to even begin. How could she explain her instinct?

"Just trust me," she said under her breath as she elongated her strides, leaping down two flights of stairs to the lower decks. Murtagh followed more slowly, taking each step one by one and saw her disappear behind the guard's barracks. _What madness was she dealing now? _he thought crossly. He loved her, a lot, but this morning was confusing him so much and it irritated him.

Illera barged into Nasuada's rooms, and her eyes fell upon a piece of paper that had been slipped under the door. She picked it up, and read the few words quickly. _Prisoner to be destroyed at noon. – Lee Charold._

Prisoner? But there were no prisoners as far as she knew. And Nasuada couldn't have control of any executions! Moreover, this didn't explain the smirk Nasuada had given her…

She would give up on the personal offense the woman had given her. Who was this prisoner? Why didn't Eragon know of this—or if he did, why hadn't he told her? And why, for god's sake, was anyone, let alone the Lieutenant of the guards, following Nasuada's orders?

Illera jumped when Murtagh came up behind her, so intently was she thinking.

"What is it?" he asked as his arm snaked to her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"Its…" she didn't quite know how explain it to him. Would he believe her? It was too late to be dawdling; she didn't have much time before noon. Illera showed him the piece of paper and said, "I'll search the right side of the ship. You do the other," and darted away.

"What the…" his voice was edged with annoyance, but he had read the note, and stiffened.

Murtagh slammed the door open and dashed out.

--

Illera flung her mind out, searching for the Lieutenant. He had to be on this ship, and near, but…

There were a group of guards there, maybe he was there! Illera banged open a door, barely wincing at the impact and demanded, "Where's Lee Charold?"

"Er—he's gone down to the lower decks ma'am. Do you want us to accompany you to search for him?" the middle-aged guard asked, obviously having no desire to do so.

"That won't be necessary. Thank you," Illera said curtly, and leaped down the staircases to the lower deck area.

Damn these incompetent fools! Illera quickly did a mental search for Charold's mind-imprint, and went another level lower when she couldn't find it. It was almost the lower hold now, and she brushed past the peasants that thronged against her.

Then she froze as she detected a surge of blinding pain below her, and whipped around to dart downwards.

"Stop!" she screamed as she saw a teenaged-boy on the floor, yelping at the cruel leather whip that was in the hand of Lee Charold.

The man ignored her and sent another stinging slap at the boy and Illera saw red. He dared to ignore a direct order? Beyond furious now, she lashed out with a red-hot flash of burning pain directed at the man and her hand went to her sword.

Charold screamed and dropped the whip, his body hitting the floor with quiet whimpers. The three guards around him leapt backwards, stunned.

"What is going on here?" Illera demanded, her voice tightly controlled.

The guards stayed silent, and she administered another, slightly toned down version of the pain to the one furthest from her. He dropped like a fly, groaning.

"You," she said, "Tell me what your Lieutenant was doing. Unless you would like to see for yourself what truly happened to them?" Illera indicated the fallen men.

_**Illera, calm yourself!**_ Amira's alarmed voice resonated in her head.

_I cannot! Amira…_

"M'lady! I swear, I was only here because he ordered to me to be here! I understand that Lady Nasuada ordered this one—" the guard pointed to the boy, still bent upon the wooden floor— "be executed. I swear, I do not know why!"

"You are dismissed," Illera told the two remaining guards. "Take him with you," she jerked her head at the fallen guard.

They scampered away.

Fighting a curious urge to panic, Illera turned to survey the boy—the reason for the day's insanity.

Her jaws dropped open as she recognized his features. Could it really be him? But—yes, there was no mistaking those eyes…

"Will?" she whispered, her hand dropping from her sword hilt. Amira's confusion was swamping her mind, but she still was thinking remarkably clearly…

He looked at her, and it was him, she was certain.

"What's your name?" She asked, pulling him to his feet and kicking Charold after the latter attempted to get up.

The boy looked a little lost, and she raked an eye down his body—he looked thin, underfed. His hair was shaggy and long—he would need it cut.

"Will," he rasped. "Who are you?"

She stiffened. "Where's your family?"

"Don't have one."

Illera was about to say something when stampeding footsteps down the stairs cut her off.

Murtagh stormed into the room, Eragon and Arya right behind him.

"Illera's all this?" Eragon demanded.

Illera opened her mouth to explain, when Arya said sharply, "And why is our Lieutenant of the Guards on the ground?"

"I can explain," she said, surprisingly calm. "First, though, Will needs to be sent to the medicinal ward."

"Arya, could you please help him to Angela?" Eragon asked, eyes pleading with her.

The elf nodded stiffly and lead the boy towards the hospital.

"So Illera, what is this all about?" Eragon asked, rather testily.

She took a breath and held out the piece of paper she had discovered in Nasuada's room. "I found this in Nasuada's rooms," she said by way of explanation.

"Prisoner? But there are no—"

"Precisely," Illera cut in. "So I wanted to investigate." She didn't add why she had become suspicious in the first place; Eragon wouldn't believe her anymore than Murtagh would.

"Why did you want to search her rooms in the first place?" Eragon asked.

Illera met his eyes. "Would you believe me if I told you it was because I had a bad feeling?"

"Not really," Eragon snorted. "Do you mean to tell me that you discovered the Lieutenant working with Nasuada to kill a prisoner whom we had no idea of—because you had a bad feeling?"

Illera didn't flinch from his skepticism. "I found someone, haven't I?"

"So explain the strong emotion I'm picking up on," Eragon demanded.

Murtagh hadn't spoken yet, though he moved closer. This was why he was worried. Who was the boy? Why was Illera so shocked when she'd found him? This wasn't just Nasuada's idea of messing with her…and if truth be told, he was so worried that Illera might end up leaving him for the 'prisoner'…

"I think he might be my brother," Illera said quietly. That would explain the personal edge this whole thing had taken on…

Murtagh almost let his shoulders sag in relief. That was it?

"What? How do you _think_ that he's your brother? And we would know if you had a brother wouldn't we?"

Illera couldn't explain. "I don't know….but he looks a hell of a lot like him. Once he's more healthy, I'll question him some more."

"If you don't mind, Eragon, I would like to talk with Illera," Murtagh cut in when Eragon seemed ready to refuel and interrogate her more.

She flashed him a grateful look, but he didn't even meet her eyes. A wave of weariness swamped her—why was Murtagh annoyed with her?

Illera stifled a sigh. "I'll talk to you later, Eragon," and followed Murtagh up the stairs.

--

"What the _hell_, Illera?" Murtagh demanded, thrusting her into an empty corridor and watching her hit the wooden wall with a dull _thud._

Her eyes gleamed with irritation, but she forced it away in a second. "What?"

He advanced on her, "This whole morning! It's been a complete _mess,_ and you've been in the thick of it. What in hell is going on?" Murtagh's voice was tight with anger, and Illera shut her eyes briefly. "How am I supposed to know?" she challenged, opening her eyes again, eyes clearly displaying how helpless she felt.

Murtagh's anger snapped, and relief flooded him. Stepping forward, he pulled her into his arms tightly, inhaling her warm scent deeply.

He could sense her confusion, but was glad when she simply leaned into him.

"I was so worried…" he whispered into her hair, exhaling sharply.

"You shouldn't have been," Illera said slightly defensively, resting her head against his collarbone. "I just…"

"Eragon and Arya probably want to talk to you more," Murtagh said quietly. "We should head up to the deck."

"Oh hell," she muttered. "I don't want to have to explain myself again. How am I supposed to explain something I felt instinctively?"

"Alright, then we won't need to return," Murtagh leaned down and pressed his lips to hers gently.

Illera welcomed the kiss and returned it eagerly, hands locking behind his head.

He broke apart from her reluctantly a few minutes later. Illera leaned into his body, his chin resting on her hair as she exhaled.

They stood like that for a long while.

--

Nasuada's body was encased in a wooden coffin and then lowered over the side. Only Eragon had shown any real emotion—bowing his head—as a crowd gathered to watch the body go overboard. Afterwards, Eragon and Arya went to consult with Glodiya and the elven caretakers of the ancient journal by the elven advisor. There had been only the cryptic direction: North by northeast only and fear the northern west. Considering that the elves had been leaving their homeland though, they were to sail south west. It had taken the ancients two months to cross over—but today they were aided with the power of magic woven into their sails and ships. Glodiya had estimated one month and fortnight at most.

It was enough to keep them all going.

--

"Land ho!" one of the sailors in the crow's nest called. "Straight ahead!"

Eragon caught Arya as she rushed towards him, nearly weeping tears of joy. Finally, finally! This would be their new home.

Her back was to his chest as they set eyes on the smoky smudged coastline that would be their new home.

--

**Argh! It took me way too long to come up with this chapter. I only updated it today anyways because Jackbyang7 kept PMing me to remind me not to give up on this fic! Anyways, only the Epilogue to go now. Almost….DONE!!!**


	39. Epilogue

**LAST UPDATE EVER! Huge author's note at the bottom. Enjoy, and I want your opinions!**

**--**

Illera's boots crunched on the gravel as she pulled herself to the valleys in between mountain peaks. There was a flurry of activity in a clearing; the melodic hum of elves' singing trees into beautiful dwellings, the clang of hammers and chisels on marble as dwarves and humans set about building a new Vroengard, a tribute to the Riders who had brought them this far.

Eragon had been appalled at this generosity of course, but when the other races had insisted, he was forced to back down. In Illera's opinion, he had never wanted to reject the idea, and was as involved in the planning and construction as the men who first proposed it.

The other four Riders (including Oromis) weren't allowed to see the massive construction until it was complete but at this rate, they would be able to set eyes upon their new home with in two fortnights.

A whisper of Amira's snicker wafted into her mind and she fought back a smile. It was no secret that the dragons all already knew how their new home would look like, as the designers had consulted them on the design for the dragons' building. They were immensely proud of this fact, and had already staked the area as the 'Skyspace'.

Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when someone pulled her into an embrace and touched her mind. Murtagh.

She should have guessed.

"Good morning," Illera said softly, looking up at him. He brushed his lips over the back of her hand and entwined their fingers for a greeting.

"I snuck a look at the plans they're drawing up when Eragon was out with Arya," Murtagh said, hint of a grin playing on his mouth. "I have to say, it looks like it will be absolutely stunning."

She probed his mind lightly. "Can I see?"

"I don't think so," he teased, and when she pouted, he laughed. "Come on love. We will be late to meet the native Elves."

"What are we supposed to discuss?" she asked warily.

"Eragon said to divvy up land boundaries and such. Reach agreements with the natives. And…" he let his words trail off and his arms tightened around her waist.

"What?"

Murtagh smirked. "Arya wanted me to tell Spitfire and Saphira, and Thorn and Amira to lay a few eggs already. They want to begin on rebuilding the Riders as soon as possible."

Illera's eyes flicked up to his, startled. A grin spread across her lips, "Well Arya doesn't know that they have been trying since we landed."

Murtagh dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and tugged her along.

The land here was similar to Alagaesia, and so they felt comfortable; at least, until they had met the native Elves. Apparently, when they had migrated from Alaea, the portion that had settled on Alagaesia had been few, and here there was a much larger population. But here, without the dragons and their truce and the Riders, the native elves had retained lifespans similar to humans.

"What do you think?" Illera asked. "Do you think we will be able to resurrect the organization?"

His grey eyes locked on hers reassuringly. "I think we have the will and ability to do whatever we need to do."

--

Two years later, Eragon stood from the highest peak of his domain, eyes settling on soaring arches and towering columns, the Skyspace's dome with a dragon settling through the Skyhole to enter the massive building, the Rider's personal quarters, with running water courtesy of expert elven engineering and design, training grounds and meeting areas. Everything was made of the finest grey-veined white marble, or sung out of beautiful birch, and if the sun hit the stone just right at sunrise it looked as if it were part of some shining heaven.

He smiled a small smile. His dream had been revived—Saphira and Spitfire had had three eggs thus far, Amira and Thorn five. With the discovery of the wild dragons in the land, they had received twenty two eggs over the last eighteen months. Two of Amira's eggs had hatched to two elves, four of the wild eggs to three humans and an elf, and one of Saphira's had hatched to a blonde haired teen-aged girl who had lived with the Varden.

The dragons sailing lazily on the sky were Thorn's brilliant ruby, Glaedr's blinding gold, the deep purple of Amira's scales, the shining orange of one of Amira's children (he had no idea that orange could come of purple and red, but Glaedr informed him that parents' colors didn't matter) and Spitfire's son, a miniature look-a-like. Glaedr must be ready to drill them, he thought.

He released a breath. Everything was perfect. The dwarves had settled in a range of mountains several miles away, the elves nearer in thickly forested woods and the humans in plentiful plains. The native elves had given them this half of the land, and retreated to the inner lands, preferring to isolate themselves.

He turned when he heard footsteps and spotted Will, Illera's brother approach.

Will bent his head respectfully, and when Eragon made an impatient motion for him to stop, bit back a grin.

"Lady Arya would like to inform you that the young Riders were beaten again by Vanir's elven team," Will said. "She also would like to inform you that I managed to disarm Vanir only by tripping over my feet and knocking him over."

Eragon let out a laugh. He doubted that, Will was extraordinarily graceful and quick on his feet for someone who had become a Rider only a few months ago. Illera had requested to mentor her brother and he had granted it, knowing that she wanted to create a bond.

"Were Illera and Murtagh watching, or are they preparing mental exercises?"

Will scratched his head. "I could not find them. They were not in the library, nor the office or training grounds. And when I asked Amira, she advised me not to try to look for the two of them because they were 'having a private moment'."

Eragon struggled to contain his amusement. For someone already four years older than when he had received Saphira, he was remarkably innocent.

"Don't worry about it. Go back to train, I know Illera will be watching, even when you think she isn't," Eragon said. "I will go with you."

Will grinned, and set off down the gentle slope into the clearing.

After sweeping his eyes around the clearing twice, Eragon spotted Illera in between the trees and caught her eye. Grinning, he touched her mind.

_Is Arya doing alright?_

_**She is moving a little more slowly. I would ask her to slow down.**_

Eragon registered this. _How was your private moment?_

She sent a trickle of amusement into his mind. _**I could send you images if you wanted. I can tell you I enjoyed it immensely,**_ she lay extra emphasis on the last word.

_Definetly not necessary. Arya said that Will tripped over himself and disarmed Vanir?_

_**He tripped, but on purpose. I could tell. I suppose—to save Vanir some face. He is a savvy politician.**_

_Will couldn't have a better teacher._

A grin spread across her face and she jerked her head, telling him to look behind him.

Eragon turned. Murtagh stepped out from behind a cluster of trees suavely and clasped Eragon in an embrace.

"If you are going to tell Arya to take it easy, you know she will only try and snap your arm in two," Murtagh muttered under his breath as Illera gracefully dropped out of her tree and headed over.

"And I don't tell her, she will only put extra stress on herself," Eragon countered.

"Ah, women! There is no way to escape the insanity," Murtagh quirked his lips and Illera shoved him gently.

"I heard that," she said. "And Arya is right there, Eragon. She's not happy with you being here."

Eragon laughed and asked Saphira if she would mind taking a short flight with him and his beloved. She dropped out of the sky and waited as Eragon lifted Arya up into the saddle and swung behind her as Saphira took off.

"I told you that I am not as helpless as you think," Arya's green eyes flashed hotly.

Eragon rolled his eyes. "Illera evidently does not think so. She told me to serenade you in our private chambers."

A very faint shade of pink tinged Arya's porcelain skin. "I would swear that 'serenading' is all Murtagh has been doing to her ever since Vroengard Deux was finished."

"Well, with such beautiful rooms, and comfortable beds, I'm sure he wouldn't want to waste it," Eragon kissed her cheek.

His hands slid down to her swollen stomach and caressed it. "I am glad we had gotten married when we did," he whispered.

"And then you insisted on consummating our marriage immediately…and now I will be hampered for another seven months," Arya complained with a good-natured glint in her eye.

Eragon smirked. "You liked it."

"Maybe so," she said, and then slid off Saphira as she came to a halt.

_How are the young ones shaping up?_ Eragon asked Saphira.

The enormous blue dragon snorted. _**I am sure none of us (**_she referred to her, Thorn, Amira and Spitfire) _**ever took it so lazily before. The only one who works hard at all seems to be Vrangdr.**_

Eragon smiled. _Like Rider, like dragon,_ he said. _Will couldn't be happier that the wine colored egg hatched for him._

_**Vrangdr is definetly Amira's son. Sweet-tempered.**_

_I never knew how Amira could be so sweet and Illera so hot-headed, for lack of better word,_ Eragon patted Saphira as his thanks, and murmured a goodbye, following Arya into the personal chambers.

--

That night at the supper meal (which training Riders had to rely on themselves to catch game earlier that day for the table), the senior Riders and friends sat at a table on the front of the room. To the left and right of the center tables (where Riders in training sat) care-takers of the remaining eggs and guardians of the Rider's treasures and Vroengard Deux sat. Angela the herbalist and a selected team of elves also sat in the hall. The hall rang with warmth, laughter and cheerful conversation.

"Oh I swear, Rider Illera is so demanding," a dark brunette girl said from a safe distance away and tossed her hair. "I wish she wouldn't critique me so much."

"Yes, she is demanding," Will drawled, quirking his mouth, "But what you learn from her more than makes up for the trouble. And she is extremely fair."

"Maybe too fair. I for one could do with Rider Eragon being the Judge in any misdemeanors or fights, instead of her," a redheaded boy said.

"Steven, I'm sure if you spent more of your time studying instead of coming up with ways to annoy my sister she would view you in more favorable eye," Will said lazily. "And you know as well as everyone that your case was her turn to be Judge. You're just lucky that you didn't have Murtagh or Arya judging you."

The brunette rolled her eyes, but conceded the point. Will had a way with words, was hard-working, had connections and was stupidly good-looking. Stupidly good-looking meaning that it should have been sinful to be human and still that good looking.

But their family had that dark glamour.

Back at the table, Ryan had joined them and blew out a breath.

"Honestly, when I was Steven's age, I swear I was not that fidgety," he grumbled. "He doesn't seem to be able to calm and meditate."

Illera snorted. "I seem to recall a teenager with much the same problem. Said teenager was so fidgety that once, in a fit of boredom, he inked a dragon fang henna into his left bicep."

"That was completely justified," Ryan protested as Eragon chuckled.

"How is Roran?" Murtagh asked. "Er, His Majesty I mean."

Arya spoke. "He and Katrina have just had their third child, a boy named Lane."

"Third? I remember when it was just the one," Murtagh reminisced.

"And I remember why I decided that I was not going to have children for some time," Illera muttered.

Ryan laughed. "That was dead funny, when Katrina asked you to play nursemaid."

"And I successfully botched it so that she would not ever ask me again," Illera snickered. "Arya was so much better than I at that."

"Which is fitting, I suppose," Murtagh poked fun at the elf.

Arya couldn't help a laugh. "Watch it Murtagh, or when the baby is born I will have you play a nurse."

He grimaced, watching as the rest of them collapsed in a fit of giggles.

"Well I'm sure Ryan is almost getting there with Irelyn," Murtagh attempted to shift the focus of the conversation from him.

"Nice try, Murtagh, but Irelyn and I ended things a few days ago. I prefer bachelorhood," Ryan stuck his tongue out at Murtagh.

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

"You know you have to visit Islanzadi when the baby is born," Illera said. "I think she has already sent us an invitation."

Eragon winced. "At least the majority of their construction has been finished."

"Orik will want to see the baby too," Murtagh said lightly, edging his friend into uncomfortable silence.

Illera smiled. Three years ago, how could any of them have seen themselves in this position? How could any of them have seen that they had the strength to succeed, if only they believed?

Thank god they did.

--

**And its over. Mary, mother of god! LOL. I can't believe it.**

**Review replies:**

**xLilypadsx: Aw thanks so much for the compliment! I never liked Nasuada so I decided to kill her off lol. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter! Thanks so much for following me!**

**OKAY, FOR THE AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

_**To my readers—**_**Check out my site for more info about A New Hope! Again, I want to thank every reader, every review and everyone devoted enough to continue with me on the journey of completing A New Hope. If you like my work (can't imagine why!) you can spot me finishing the rest of my Fanfiction and hopefully sometime soon on FictionPress under the same name. I hope you have all enjoyed reading A New Hope—I still want to know what you think about the last chapter though! Leave some love!**

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**Q&A: **

**Q: Sequel?**

**A: NO! LOL! I'm sorry, but the Eragon series has worn on my last nerve. I'm heading to Fictionpress! My sole side project here is probably going to be my Harry Potter one, or maybe an Alex Rider one. SHORT ones though! **

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	40. Rewritten

Murtagh collapsed. The cold, rough granite of the dungeons was almost soothing against the wounds burning on his body. He tried to raise himself, but his hands slipped on the slick stone.

_Pain._

He could hear his dragon's helpless roars—he had withdrawn from their contact so Thorn did not have to bear the same pain—and shut his eyes.

"Aren't you enjoying this Murtagh? For if you were not, why would you fail me? Where is Eragon Shadeslayer!" Galbatorix ended in a roar.

_Thorn…_

"Answer me!" Galbatorix whispered a few words, and instantly, Murtagh felt several ribs crack.

"I…don't know," Murtagh was dizzy with the pain, he couldn't think, couldn't feel. He wanted to…

"You will go again. You will not fail. Do you understand me?" the King's voice was soft; lethal in the way a panther stalks its prey.

Murtagh didn't answer; he couldn't. His jaw—or any muscle—had ceased to obey him. Some of them were torn; some ligaments pushed to strange areas, and he could feel life just barely pulsing inside him.

And it was beginning to leave him…

The world flickered, until a soft wash of black took him.

Galbatorix sneered contemptuously. "If only your great father could see you now," he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

…

"Illera!" the head healer, a thin woman named Meira barked.

Illera jerked her head around from where she was scrubbing bedpans in the infirmary. "Yes, Meira?" she held no particular love for this woman; she reminded her too much like a bird of prey. She was too eager to leave her healers behind, to send them into the dragon's den in the centre of the castle.

"You're needed in the dungeons. Deal what you find there," Meira said. "The King orders it."

"Magically or…?" Illera asked. "You know I've not the strength for healing entirely whomever the King has decided to amuse himself with."

Meira shot her a sharp look. "Shh!" she hissed. "You need to be more careful."

Illera straightened, but did not apologize.

"Go, eat then, first. The cooks will have something for you."

Illera shook her head. "There will be time enough for that later. I will be attending to the poor man then," she began to make her way out of the infirmary. The shaking of the castle and distant roaring of who-knew-what had finally ceased after several hours.

A left, to nearly the other end of the castle, and then, down a dank set of steps to finally reach the dungeons. As she strode, Illera was forced to periodically pull her starched, white uniform upwards. The stamped uniforms had been made for men, and the smallest size that had been without use could have fit a burly twenty-year old; of which she was neither. Even a belt did not help. She had reached her eighteenth birthday several months ago and had been driven to seek a job anywhere she could. In Uru'baen, there were worse lines of work than a healer; even if magic was much preyed upon.

Illera descended the cold stone steps, shivering at the cold, moist air. She nodded to the guard stationed in the stairwell before entering. There were cells, many cells…And then she noticed something unusual: there was no guard.

Galbatorix always posted a guard.

Why was it that today, there was no guard? Unless…

_He was assured whomever he dealt with couldn't be a threat._

With more trepidation now, she quested forth.

The stench hit her before she reached the last—and largest cell. It was cloying, sticky; blood. The last time she had smelled the hot scent was when she had pushed her way through a slaughterhouse neighborhood…

She forced herself to look into the cell and suppressed a gasp of revulsion.

Gashes slit the young man's back, so deep that she wondered how he remained in one piece. Some of them had cut straight through a thick, white, ropey scar that crossed his back. Part of his left shoulder had been crushed; there were cuts as if made from a sword. Tiny burns also peppered his tan skin; she recognized them as having been made from Seithr oil. The last man she had treated for that hadn't survived.

How could the man still be alive? And yet, he was. She felt his life beat in the air, yet it was slow, so slow that she wondered if he would slip into the void at any moment.

Illera rolled up her sleeves and knelt—and then she slid suddenly.

"What the—" her voice was cut off when she realized what exactly she had slipped in.

His blood.

The cuts still gushed sluggishly, and so she healed the more shallow ones with whispered words of "Waise heill!" She knew that the muscles severed in many of the cuts needed to be reattached; yet she lacked knowledge of the words necessary for such a spell, so she simply healed the skin above it. And also, she lacked the strength to heal so many wounds.

Illera left briefly to request several wash cloths and a basin of warm water, both of which arrived shortly.

Softly, she used a cloth to scrape off the majority of the Seithr oil, using a separate one to gently cleanse the wounds on his back before closing them with the murmured words.

Illera healed as much as she could, but she eventually could do no more and sat down hard, leaning against the wall several meters away, breathing hard. If she wasn't careful, she could faint from the over exertion.

She recovered slightly before turning him over, using the cloth to lightly rub away dried blood from his features, and rinse his own blood out of his matted hair.

It was then that she realized who he was.

Illera recoiled, jumping backwards. There was no doubt—the man who lay in front of her was the Red Rider.

She hit the wall, and pushed herself upright against the unforgiving surface, shaking her head wearily. He had several cracked ribs in addition to more mutilated muscle and she could only mend three out of the five; her strength had gone.

Illera called for clean water and for food—she needed fuel if she was going to continue. When it arrived, she devoured the bowl of stew and bread eagerly, feeling her strength return with each bite.

And afterwards she healed all that she could on his body, and pressed all the energy she could spare into him.

With those wounds, she needed him to wake and heal himself before…Illera couldn't stand seeing anyone or anything die, especially not while she had worked upon them. She frowned, reaching out with her mind to force him to wake. Yet, when she did, a foreign, completely alien presence slammed into her consciousness, driving into her mind. Illera flinched, recoiling and attempted to shield herself, but her wards were swept away like dust in a storm. And just as suddenly as it had attacked her, it was gone.

She was still recovering from the pain it had caused her when the Rider let out a chuckle. She couldn't move, but he whispered a few words and the wounds were healed instantly, and his shoulder restored.

Illera was shocked at the ease he had shown to use heal his grievous wounds; that he could rise from a deep sleep to full strength.

"You attempted to heal me," he said, rising.

She nodded, shutting her eyes as sleep tempted her. Even speaking was too much effort now.

Murtagh knelt beside her, touching her arm lightly and returning much of the energy she'd given him to her.

It soothed her pounding head and she released a breath, before realizing.

Galbatorix must have been in such a rage because the army had lost the Battle far away. And the Red Rider, he had been ordered to capture the other Rider. Clearly, he had failed, and was being punished.

She offered a wan smile. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "Thank _you_."

Illera stood, putting out a hand to steady herself on the wall. "You should go to the kitchens and eat."

He raised an eyebrow, and she elaborated.

"I'm a healer," she defended herself. "I need to see my patients recover."

He nodded at her uniform, now soiled and soaked through in patches of his blood. "You had better go change. You don't…you needn't see me to the kitchens."

Illera shrugged a shoulder. "I would see you eat something before I go."

Something—the same, alien presence brushed her mind again and she shied away, flinching.

The Rider laughed; yet it was almost humorless. "I can see you've met Thorn."

"Thorn?" she asked, wincing when the presence quested towards her again.

A corner of his mouth turned up. "He is a dragon."

Her lips opened a fraction of an inch before she shut them, pushing her long, black hair out of her face. "Oh."

Murtagh was silent. "He wants to know why you came."

"Orders," she said, dumping out the basin of water and watching it mix with scarlet blood as it dripped down a drain. "Meira asked me to come down here and attend to whatever I found."

Murtagh watched her place the dishes into the basin, asking the guard to call a servant to clear it later.

"Now," she said, and he saw that her eyes were as dark as mud seen in a starless night. "You need fuel. Go, eat."

He seemed to be amused, but she could not bring herself to care. His care had taken more out of her than she had expected, and she only wanted to rest for ages.

"You as well," he said unexpectedly. "You will need it too."

"I—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Tis simply lunch," he said, taking a hold of her arm. "_Tauthr."_

She couldn't refuse his strength, nor the way he imbued the word for _follow_ with power.

And so it was, as she followed him, her destiny began to awaken.

Illera departed the kitchens almost a half-hour later, amazed at how with just a simple command, the kitchen staff had rushed for the Rider for anything he asked. Mead, ale, bread, stew or a pie; anything he wished for, it was given as quickly as they could cook.

He had asked her a few questions; her name, wondering how much she knew in the Ancient Language, how long she had worked in the castle. She could not help but be curt and swift in her responses; her own past was littered with too much sorrow and much too many images she had no wish to revisit.

Finally, she drew a hot bath, determined to scrub off all of the dried blood from her skin. All of _his_ dried blood. Illera felt as if she were coated in his essence, a primal part of him…

_It wouldn't do,_ she decided. He was so powerful, so different, stoic, serious—and his dragon! So foreign and alien to her…everything about him frightened and called to her at the same time.

It disconcerted her to find, when she slid into the bathtub, flakes of maroon scrape off her skin and melt into the water. Red, red; a pale, watery rose. So much unlike the Rider's dragon.

He released the slight magic sustaining his scry, unusual surprise welling. He was rarely even surprised now, after so long.

He had watched the girl, with the eyes like pitch struggle and nearly cause herself to faint while healing his insolent servant. He'd watched the byplay between them, and watched as they made their ways to the kitchen. He had more than watched; he had listened.

_Illera._

The name resonated like the city his Uru'baen had been named before the kingdom rose. She could be trained, into a worthy magician, into part of the Black Hand.

An idea crept into his mind…

Shells of iridescent green, and every other color of the rainbow, flashes of gold and reds and yellows and blues across the skies.

His dream could reawaken.

_Murtagh, son of Morzan._ _Illera, and eventually, the Blue Rider Eragon Shadeslayer._

_All under His Majesty Galbatorix Kingslayer, Ruler of the Empire._

Galbatorix had, of course, seen everything.

…

**intiating rewrite. I'm fully aware that I can't possibly hope to be finished by the time the final book comes out but the first version was so painful to even look at, I MUST re-write it. It is published under A New Hope Redux; please go story alert it there and not here.**


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